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THE RED BATTLE FLYER 




CAl'TAIN BAROX VOX KJCHTHOFEX 



The 

RED BATTLE FLYER 




BY ^ 

CepteiD Aenfrcd FreibGir 

von Ricbtbofen 



Translated by T. Ellis Barker, with a preface and 
notes by C. G. Grey, editor of "The Aeroplane" 



NEW YORK 

Robert M. McBride ^ Co. 
1918 



Copyright 1918 

By 

ROBERT M. McBRIDE fef COMPANY 



,--\ \ 



Printed in the United States oj America. 



JUL -5 1918 



Published July, 1918 



'G:.A501131 



CONTENTS 



CHAPTER 

Preface .... 

I. My Family .... 

II. The Outbreak of the War 

III. Boredom Before Verdun 

IV. In the Air .... 
V. My First Solo Flight . 

VI. I Fly In a Thunderstorm 

VII. Bombing in Russia 

VIII. My First English Victim 

IX. I Get the OkIdre Pour le Merite 

X. A Flying Man's Adventure 

XI. My Record Day . 

XII. Schafer Lands Between Lines 

XIII. My Brother 



PAGE 

I 

19 
29 

52 

57 
82 
92 
98 

109 
127 

145 
154 
168 
196 



LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS 



FACING 
PAGE 

Captain Baron Von Richthofen . Frontispiece ^ 

The Famous Richthofen "Circus" . . 64 

The Fortieth Richthofen Victim . . 128 ■' 
Lieut. Schafer Speaking With Another 

Member of the Squadron . . . 194 
Captain Richthofen with His Mascot Dog 

"MoRiTz" 194^" 



vu 



PREFACE 

OOME time ago a Naval Officer who was 
^ engaged on particularly hazardous duty 
was discussing calmly the chances tha<t he 
and his like had of surviving the war, assum- 
ing that it continued for several more years 
and that his particular branch of it increased 
its intensity. He wound up his remarks by 
saying, "The chief reason why I particularly 
want to survive the finish is that I'm so keen 
on comparing notes with our opposite mem- 
bers in the German Navy." 

That is the answer to those who ask, as an 
important official gentleman asked recently, 
why this English translation of Rittmeister 
von Richthofen's book should be published. 
It gives our flying people an opportunity of 
comparing notes with one of Germany*s 
star-turn fighting pilots, just as that excel- 
lent book by "Contact" gives the Germans 
the chance of gathering the atmosphere of 



PREFACE 

the Royal Flying Corps as it was in 1916 
and 1917. 

"The Red Battle-Flyer" has evidently been 
carefully censored by the German authori- 
ties. Also it has possibly been touched up 
here and there for propagandist purposes. 
Consequently, although the narrative as it 
stands is extraordinarily interesting, the 
book as a whole is still more interesting on 
account of what one reads between the lines, 
and of what one can deduce from the general 
outlook of the writer. There is, perhaps, 
little to learn of immediate topical interest, 
but there is much that explains things which 
were rather difficult to understand in the 
past, and the understanding of such points 
gives one a line of reasoning which should 
be useful to our active-service aviators in 
the future. 

When one makes due allowance for the 
propagandist nature of the book, which gives 
one the general impression of the writing 
of a gentleman prepared for publication by 
a hack journalist, one forms a distinctly fa- 
vorable mental picture of the young Ritt- 



PREFACE 

meister Baron von Richthofen. Our old 
friend Froissart is credited with the state- 
ment that in his age of chivalry it was 
always "impossible to inculcate into the 
German knights the true spirit of knightli- 
ness." Which seems to indicate that the 
practical German mind of those days could 
not understand the whimsicalities of the 
Latin ideas of chivalry, which — for example 
— bade a knight against whose shield an 
opponent "brake his spear" haul off out of 
the fight till the lance-less enemy unsheathed 
his sword and "drave into the combat" again. 
Probably the Hun of those days proceeded 
to stick his opponent in the midriff — wher- 
ever it may be — and so finished the fight. 

In the same true spirit of knightliness an 
Englishman knocks a man down and then 
stands back so that he can get up and have 
another chance, whereas a more practical 
person would take excellent care that his 
opponent never got up till he had acknowl- 
edged himself beaten. It is all a matter of 
the point of view, and largely no doubt a 
matter of education. However, making due 



PREFACE 



allowance for the point of view, one finds 
surprisingly little Hunnishness in von Rich- 
thofen's manners or methods as set forth in 
print. 

It is one of the accepted facts of the war 
that the German aviators have displayed 
greater chivalry than any other branch of 
the German services. It was a common 
occurrence for their pilots to fly over our 
lines in the course of their business, and, by 
way of variety from that business, to drop 
packets containing letters from captured 
British aviators, or the personal belongings 
of the dead. One gathers that these acts of 
courtesy have become less frequent of late, 
owing to the intensification of aerial war- 
fare, but it seems that captured and killed 
aviators still receive the full courtesies of 
war from the German aviators, whatever 
may be the fate of prisoners in other hands 
afterwards. 

It is not surprising therefore to find that, 
taking him all round, Rittmeister von Rich- 
thofen conveys to one the general impression 
that, mutatis mutandis, he is very like an 



PREFACE 

English public school boy of good family. 
His egotism, as one finds it in the book, is 
the egotism of a young man who is frankly 
pleased with himself, but is more elated by 
his good luck than by his cleverness. 

Taking him by and large, one rather likes 
von Richthofen, and one fancies that most 
of the R.F.C. people who have fought him 
would be quite pleased after the war to sit 
at table with him and compare notes over 
the cigarettes and liquors, .as my Naval 
friend wants to do with his pre-war friends 
of the German Navy. And there are un- 
happily not too many of our present enemies 
of whom one would like to express such an 
opinion. 

When one comes to read into the book one 
begins to find many interesting things 
about the German Army, and the war in 
general, as well as about the German Feld- 
fliegartruppen — or Flying Service. The Ger- 
man is not really a skilful censor. Just as 
certain portraits painted by an artist at 
Ruhleben conveyed by the expression of the 
faces a good deal that Germany would like 



PREFACE 



hidden, so von Richthofen's book, though 
carefully censored, lets out quite a good deal 
of information. 

The first thing that strikes one is that 
Germany's standing army at the beginning 
of the war was nothing like so perfect a 
fighting machine as we in this country be- 
lieved. Although, like all the people with 
any sense in this country, the German Army 
knew that a war was coming, the officers 
and men seem to have set about their work 
in a singularly amateurish way, judging by 
the short section of the book devoted to the 
opening of the war on the Russian Front. 
And one is pleased to find that von Rich- 
thofen has the grace to laugh at himself and 
his brother-officers for their mistakes. 

In some ways the soldiers of all nations 
resemble one another strongly. For in- 
stance, one finds in this book the same con- 
tempt for what the Germans picturesquely 
call a "base-hog," as the French have for 
the "embusque" and as the British front- 
line officer has for the young and able- 
bodied officer who is "Something on the 



PREFACE 

Staff." This obnoxious breed is the same 
in all armies, and must be clearly distin- 
guished from the carefully trained and ex- 
pensively educated General Staff Officer, 
who is very much of a specialist and is the 
very brain of the Army. 

When we come to the purely aviatic por- 
tion of the book one finds more of the real 
von Richthofen and less of the cavalry 
officer. His honesty about his utter mental 
confusion the first time he went into the air 
recalls General Brancker's famous remark 
in his lecture to the Aeronautical Society 
when he said that no one ever sees anything 
at all during his first hour in the air owing 
to the hopeless confusion in his mind caused 
by the novel aspect of everything. Von 
Richthofen's description of his experience is 
about the best thing that has been written 
on the subject. 

An interesting bit of information is dis- 
closed in his description of his flight in a 
"Grossflugzeug," on September 1st, 1915. 
At that period little was known about twin- 
engined aeroplanes. The Germans were 



PREFACE 

known to have tried them, but they were 
not a success. The only example known to 
our people — though probably there were 
actually .several different machines — was 
commonly known in the R.F.C. as '"Wong- 
wong," on account of the curious noise made 
by the engines or air-screws when they got 
"out of phase" — as an electrician might 
call it. This noise is now quite familiar to 
the inhabitants of Southeastern England 
as the characteristic note of the Gotha 
bombers. 

Von Richthofen's good judgment of fight- 
ing values, though he was then only an 
observer, and a novice at that, is shown by 
his disapproval of the twin-engined aero- 
plane as a fighting machine. It is also of 
interest to learn that at that period the 
Germans had tried an auto-lock device to 
hold the rudder of a twin-engined machine 
over to one side so that it would fly straight 
if one engine went out of action, an ingeni- 
ous idea even if foredoomed to failure. 

It is encouraging to find that though 
these twin-engined machines were in opera- 

8 



PREFACE 

tion in September, 1915, the first bombing 
squadron so composed only came into action 
against defenceless Bucharest a year later. 
This shows that actually we in this country 
are not so very much slower in producing 
our new ideas, for our big Handley Page 
twin-engined biplanes first flew towards the 
end of 1915, and we began to use them regu- 
larly early in 1917 — only a little more than 
a year later. 

The similarity of aviators in all countries 
is shown by von Richthofen's frank confes- 
sion of blue funk when he made his first 
flight alone. That first solo is always the 
most anxious time in a pilot's career. An- 
other touch of that nature which makes all 
aviators akin is seen in his accounts of how 
he and other pupils under instruction used 
to fly off on cross-country training trips and 
suffer from opportune forced landings in the 
parks of their friends or in likely-looking 
estates. One imagined that this manifesta- 
tion of "wongling" was an essentially Eng- 
lish trick, and would not have been tolerated 
for a moment under the iron discipline of 

9 



PREFACE 

the German Army. In the early days of the 
R.F.C. this looking for opulent hosts used 
to be known sarcastically as "hunting for 
Jew-palaces." 

The state of affairs on the Russian front 
is well shown in the brief reference in the 
book. "Flying in the East is absolutely a 
holiday," says the writer, who adds that 
there was no danger on the Russian front, 
except the danger of being massacred by the 
Russians if brought down by engine failure. 
From which one understands that the Rus- 
sians did not approve of making prisoners 
of enemy aviators. Their "Archies" were 
apparently good, but too few to be useful, 
and their aviators practically did not exist. 
Which is rather what one ventured to sur- 
mise in print at the time, despite the mag- 
niloquent Russian communiques. When one 
thinks of all the good British and French 
aeroplanes and engines which were sent to 
Russia one regrets the waste of material. 

On the subject of air fighting, von Rich- 
thofen is always worth studying carefully. 
None will dispute his wisdom in laying stress 

10 



PREFACE 



on the importance of calmness in an air 
fight. We have lost many good fighting 
pilots through their getting excited and 
dashing headlong into an unequal combat. 
He, or his editor, has been sufficiently skil- 
ful not to give away his pet method of 
attack. However, one gathers that he de- 
pended largely on his first rush for his re- 
sults, rather than on a prolonged series of 
manoeuvres. 

His dictum that "in air fighting results 
depend on ability and not on trickery," 
rather bears out this impression. Neverthe- 
less he occasionally tells of a lengthy tussle 
with a particularly skilful enemy. 

Such a story relates how that very gallant 
gentleman. Major Lanoe Hawker, one of the 
best loved and admired of the R.F.C.'s many 
gallant fighting leaders, fell. It would seem 
that Major Hawker's machine was out- 
classed rather than that he was beaten by 
superior skill. One is glad to find that von 
Richthofen pays a tribute to the bravery and 
ability of his enemy, and it is perhaps some 
slight consolation to those of us who knew 

II 



PREFACE 

Lanoe Hawker to think that he fell a victim 
to the Germans' best man and not to a 
chance shot from an unworthy foe. 

It is rather curious that some time after 
emphasizing the fact that trickery does not 
pay in air fighting, von Richtofen should 
show how trickery does pay by describing his 
young brother Lothar's trick of pretending 
to be shot and letting his machine fall appar- 
ently out of control, so as to break off a fight 
with opponents who were above his weight. 
One is inclined to wonder how many opti- 
mistic young air-fighters have reported 
enemy machines as "driven down out of con- 
trol," when in reality the wily Hun has only 
been getting out of the way of harm. The 
older hands in these days are not easily 
caught by such a trick, and the High Com- 
mand refuses to count any victims so claimed 
unless the performance is verified by inde- 
pendent witnesses either on the ground or 
aloft. 

Another point of interest in von Rich- 
thofen's fighting methods is that he states, 
that as a rule, he opens fire at 50 yards. Dis- 

12 



PREFACE 

tances are hard to judge in the air. The pilot 
is more Hkely to underestimate them than 
otherwise, just as one does in judging dis- 
tances at sea. But von Richthofen is prob- 
ably as good a judge as any, and in this he 
seems to be stating a plain fact. In these 
days 50 yards is fairly long range. Some of 
our own crack fighters prefer 50 feet, if they 
can get into their favorite positions. Any- 
how he shows the unwisdom of opening tire 
at 1,000 yards, as some inexperienced and 
excited machine-gunners are rather apt 
to do. 

Von Richthofen's chaser squadron — or 
Jagdstaffel, as the Germans call these forma- 
tions — was the first to be known as a 
"circus." The famous Boelcke squadron, 
although a fairl}^ mobile body, the members 
of which co-operated closely on occasion, 
never developed formation fighting to the 
extent that von Richthofen did. 

His men, although, as the book shows, 
they went out periodically on lone-hand 
ventures, generally flew in a body, number- 
ing anywhere from half a dozen to fifteen or 

13 



PREFACE 



SO. Their leader chose to paint his little 
Albatros a brilliant pillar-box red. The 
others painted their machines according to 
their fancy. Some had yellow noses, blue 
bodies and green wings. Some were pale 
blue underneath and black on top. Some 
were painted in streaks, some with spots. 
In fact, they rang the changes on the whole 
of the paint-box. 

They flew wonderfully, being all picked 
men, and in a fight they performed in a man- 
ner which would have seemed impossible to 
the most expert aerial acrobats. 

Also, the squadron was moved from place 
to place as a self-contained unit, so that it 
appeared wherever the fighting was thick- 
est, or wherever British or French recon- 
naissance machines were busiest. It would 
be operating at Verdun one week. The next 
week it would be north of Arras. A few 
days later it would be down on the Somme. 
But as a rule it specialized on the British 
front. Wherever it pitched its tents it did 
its regular squadron performance, and fol- 
lowed it later in the day with lone-hand 

14 



PREFACE 

raids, or "strafing" flight by two or three 
machines at a time. 

When one considers the harlequin coloring 
of the machines, their acrobatic flying and 
their "two shows a day" performances from 
their one-week pitches, it follows logically 
that the humorists of the R.F.C. simply had 
to call the squadron "von Richthofen's 
Traveling Circus." "^ 

Since then the word has acquired a mean- 
ing of its own among flying men. It con- 
notes practically any special formation or- 
ganized for the purpose of hunting enemy 
aviators, and consisting of picked men under 
a specially skilful leader. It need not neces- 
sarily be more mobile than any other squad- 
ron, and it need not indulge in freak color- 
ings, though in the nature of its work, its 
flying must be acrobatic. The British "cir- 
cuses" are in these days superior to the Ger- 
man circuses, because our machines are now 
at least as good as those of the Germans, and 
so our men, who have always been of higher 
average quality than the German aviators, 
have a fair chance of proving their worth. 

15 



PREFACE 



Of those of von Richthofen's circus men- 
tioned in the book, Schafer was the first to 
be killed. Before the war he lived in Lon- 
don, to learn English, working in an ofhce 
in the city, when so inclined, but mostly 
spending his time on the river, or in sport. 
Those who knew him say that he was a 
pleasant lad and a good sportsman. 

Voss was the next to go, after what has 
been described by those who were in it as 
one of the most gallant fights of the war. 
On a Fokker triplane with a French le 
Rhone engine — evidently an experimental 
machine built for quick manoeuvring — he 
fought single-handed a patrol of six of our 
people, when he could have broken off the 
fight and have got away by abandoning an 
inferior companion. He was a brave man 
and a most brilliant pilot. His flying and j 
shooting in his last fight are said to have 
been marvelously clever. None admire his . 
bravery more than those who fought him. I 

Others of the "circus" have fallen since 
then, and the present "Richthofen Jagd- 
staffel" is probably constituted very differ- 

i6 



PREFACE 

ently from that band of high-spirited desper- 
adoes which was evolved from the original 
Boelcke squadron, and helped to build up 
the fame of von Richthofen. There is none 
of the old R.F.C. who would not cheerfully 
kill what is left of the "circus," and there is 
probably none who would not gladly shake 
hands with the survivors after peace is de- 
clared. They are worthy enemies and brave 
men. 

This little book gives one a useful insight 
into the enemy's methods, and more than a 
little respect for at any rate some of those 
whom we are at present endeavoring to kill. 

C. G. GREY, 
Editor, The Aeroplane. 



17 



My Family, 

'T'HE members of my family — that of 
^ Richthofen — have taken no very great 
part in wars until now^. The Richthofens 
have always lived in the country; indeed, 
there has scarcely been one of them with- 
out a landed estate, and the few who did 
not live in the country have, as a rule, en- 
tered the State service. My grandfather 
and all my ancestors before him had estates 
about Breslau and Striegau. Only in the 
generation of my grandfather it happened 
that the first Richthofen' his cousin, became 
a General. 

My mother belongs to the family Von 
Schickfuss und Neudorf. Their character 
resembles that of the Richthofen people. 
There were a few soldiers in that family. 

19 



THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 



All the rest were agrarians. The brother of 
my great-grandfather Shickfuss fell in 1806. 
During the Revolution of 1848 one of the 
finest castles of a Schickfuss was burnt 
down. The Schickfuss have, as a rule, only 
become Captains of the Reserve. 

In the family Schickfuss and in the family 
Falckenhausen — my grandmother's maiden 
name was Falckenhausen — there were two 
principal hobbies : horse riding and game 
shooting. My mother's brother, Alexander 
Schickfuss, has done a great deal of game 
shooting in Africa, Ceylon, Norway and 
Hungary. 

My father is practically the first member 
of our branch of the family to become a 
professional soldier. At an early age he 
entered the Corps of Cadets and later 
joined the 12th Regiment of Uhlans. He 
was the most conscientious soldier imagin- 
able. He began to suffer from difficulty of 
hearing and had to resign. He got ear 
trouble because he saved one of his men 
from drowning and though he was wet 
through and through he insisted upon con- 



20 



THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 

tinuing his duties as if nothing had hap- 
pened, wet as he was, without taking notice 
of the rigor of the weather. The present 
generation of the Richthofens contains, of 
course, many more soldiers. In war every 
able-bodied Richthofen is, of course, on 
active service. In the very beginning of the 
present war I lost six cousins, and all were 
in the cavalry. 

I was named after my uncle Manfred, 
who' in peace time, was adjutant to His 
Majesty and Commander of the Corps of 
the Guards. During the war he has been 
Commander of a Corps of Cavalry. 

My father was in the 1st Regiment of 
Cuirassiers in Breslau when I was born on 
the 2nd of May, 1892. We then lived at 
Kleinburg. I received tuition privately until 
my ninth year. Then I went for a year to 
school in Schweidnitz and then I became 
Cadet in Wahlstatt. The people of Schweid- 
nitz considered me as one of themselves. 
Having been prepared for a military career 
as a Cadet, I entered the 1st Regiment of 
Uhlans. 

21 



THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 

My own adventures and experiences will 
be found in this book. 

My brother, Lothar, is the other flying- 
man Richthofen. He wears the Ordre pour 
le Merite. My youngest brother is still in 
the Corps of Cadets and he is waiting 
anxiously until he is old enough to go on 
active service. My sister, like all the ladies 
of our family, is occupied in nursing the 
wounded. 

My Life as a Cadet 

A S a little boy of eleven I entered the 
Cadet Corps. I was not particularly 
eager to become a Cadet, but my father 
wished it. So my wishes were not con- 
sulted. 

I found it difficult to bear the strict dis- 
cipline and to keep order. I did not care 
very much for the instruction I received. 
I never was good at learning things. I did 
just enough work to pass. In my opinion it 
would have been wrong to do more than was 
just sufficient, so I worked as little as pos- 
sible. The consequence was that my teach- 
ers did not think overmuch of me. On the 

22 



THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 

other hand, I was very fond of sport. Par- 
ticularly I liked gymnastics, football, and 
other outdoor amusements. I could do all 
kinds of tricks on the horizontal bar. For 
this I received various prizes from the Com- 
mander. 

I had a tremendous liking for all risky 
foolery. For instance, one fine day, with my 
friend Frankenberg, I climbed the famous 
steeple of Wahlstatt by means of the light- 
ning conductor and tied my handkerchief to 
the top. I remember exactly how difficult 
it was to negotiate the gutters. Ten years 
later, when I visited my little brother at 
Wahlstatt, I saw my handkerchief still tied 
up high in the air. 

My friend Frankenberg was the first 
victim of the war as far as I know. 

I liked very much better the Institution 
of Lichterfelde. I did not feel so isolated 
from the world and began to live a little 
more like a human being. 

My happiest reminiscences of Lichter- 
felde are those of the great sports when my 
opponent was Prince Frederick Charles. The 

23 



THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 

Prince gained many first prizes against me 
both in running and football, as I had not 
trained my body as perfectly as he had done. 

/ Enter the Army. (Easter, ipii) 

/^F course, I was very impatient to get into 
^^ the Army. Immediately after passing 
my examination I came forward and was 
placed in the 1st Regiment of Uhlans, "Em- 
peror Alexander III." I had selected that 
regiment. It was garrisoned in my beloved 
Silesia and I had some acquaintances and 
relations there, who advised me to join it. 

I had a colossal liking for the service with 
my regiment. It is the finest thing for a 
young soldier to be a cavalry man. 

I can say only little about the time which 
I passed at the War Academy. My experi- 
ence there reminds me too much of the 
Corps of Cadets and consequently my 
reminiscences are not over agreeable. 

I remember that once one of my teachers 
bought a very fat mare, an amiable animal, 
whose only fault was that she was rather 
old. She was supposed to be fifteen years 

24 



THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 

old. She had rather stout legs, but she 
jumped splendidly. I rode her frequently, 
and her name was Biffy. 

About a year later, when I joined the regi- 
ment, my Captain, von Tr , who was very 

fond of sport, told me that he had bought 
a funny little mare, a fat beast, who jumped 
very nicely. We all were very interested 
to make the acquaintance of the fat jumping 
horse who bore the strange name Biffy. I 
had quite forgotten the old mare of my 
teacher at the War Academy. One fine 
morning, the animal arrived and I was as- 
tonished to find that the ancient Bifify was 
now standing as an eight-year-old in the 
Captain's stable. In the meantime, she had 
changed her master repeatedly, and had 
much risen in value. My teacher had bought 
her for $375., as a fifteen-year-old, and von 

Tr had bought her a year later, as an 

eight-year-old, for $850. She won no more 
prizes for jumping, in spite of her renewed 
youth, but she changed her master once 
more and was killed in action in the begin- 
ning of the war. 

25 



THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 

/ Become an Officer. {Autumn, igi2) 

\ T last I was given the epaulettes. It 
'^^ was a glorious feeling, the finest I have 
ever experienced when people called me 
Lieutenant. 

My father bought me a beautiful mare 
called Santuzza. It was a marvelous animal, 
as hard as nails. She kept her place in the 
procession like a lamb. In course of time 
I discovered that she possessed a great talent 
for jumping and I made up my mind to train 
her. She jumped incredible heights. 

In this enterprise I got much sympathy 
and co-operation from my comrade von 
Wedel, who won many a prize with his 
charger, Fandango. 

We two trained our horses for a jumping 
competition and a steeplechase in Breslau. 
Fandango did gloriously. Santuzza also did 
well by taking a great deal of trouble. I 
hoped to achieve something with her. On 
the day before she was to be put on the 
train I wished once more to jump all the 
obstacles in our training ground. In doing 

26 



THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 

SO we slipped. Santuzza hurt her shoulder 
and I broke my collar-bone. 

I expected that my dear fat mare, San- 
tuzza, would also be a quick runner and was 
extremely surprised when she was beaten 
by Wedel's thoroughbred. 

Another time I had the good fortune to 
ride a very fine horse at a Sports Meeting 
at Breslau. My horse did extremely well 
and I had hopes of succeeding. After a run 
of about half the course I approached the 
last obstacle. At a long distance I saw that 
the obstacle in front was bound to be some- 
thing extraordinary because a great crowd 
was watching near it. I said to myself: 
"Keep your spirits up. You are sure to get 
into trouble." I approached the obstacle, 
going full speed. The people about waved 
to me and shouted that I should not go so 
fast, but I neither heard nor saw. My horse 
jumped over and on the other side there was 
a steep slope with the river Weistritz in 
front. Before I could say hnife the horse, 
having jumped, fell with a gigantic leap into 
the river and horse and rider disappeared. 

27 



THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 

Of course, I was thrown over the head of the 
animal. Felix got out of the river on the 
one side and I on the other. When I came 
back, the weighing people were surprised 
that I had put on ten pounds instead of los- 
ing two pounds as usual. Happily no one 
noticed that I was wet through and through. 
I had also a very good charger. The un- 
fortunate beast had learned to do every- 
thing — running, steeplechasing, jumping, 
army service. There was nothing that the 
poor beast had not learned. Its name was 
Blume and I had some pleasant successes 
with him. The last prize I got riding that 
horse was when I rode for the Kaiser Prize 
in 1913. I was the only one who got over 
the whole course without a single slip. In 
doing so I had an experience which cannot 
easily be repeated. In galloping over a piece 
of heath land, I suddenly stood on my head. 
The horse had stepped into a rabbit hole and 
in my fall I broke my collar-bone. Notwith- 
standing the breakage. I rode another forty 
miles without making a mistake and arrived 
keeping good time. 

28 



II 



The Outbreak of War 

A LL the papers contained nothing but 
-^^ fantastic stories about the war. How- 
ever, for several months we had been ac- 
customed to war talk. We had so often 
packed our service trunks that the whole 
thing had become tedious. No one believed 
any longer that there would be war. We, 
who were close to the frontier, who were 
"the eyes of the Army," to use the words of 
my Commander, believed least that there 
would be war. 

On the day before military preparations 
began we were sitting with the people of 
the detached squadron at a distance of ten 
kilometres from the frontier, in the officers' 
club. We were eating oysters, drinking 
champagne and gambling a little. We were 

29 



THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 



very merry. No one thought of war. 

It is true that, some days before, Wedel's 
mother had startled us a little. She had ar- 
rived from Pomerania in order to see her son 
before the beginning of the war. As she 
found us in the pleasantest mood and as she 
ascertained that we did not think of war, 
she felt morally compelled to invite us to a 
very decent luncheon. 

We were extremely gay and noisy when 
suddenly the door opened. It disclosed 
Count Kospoth, the Administrator of 01s. 
He looked like a ghost. 

We greeted our old friend with a loud 
Hoorah! He explained to us the reason of 
his arrival. He had come personally to the 
frontier in order to convince himself whether 
the rumors of an impending world-war were 
true. He assumed, quite correctly that the 
best information could be obtained at the 
frontier. He was not a little surprised when 
he saw our peaceful assembly. We learned 
from him that all the bridges in Silesia were 
being patrolled by the military and that steps 
were being taken to fortify various positions. 

30 



THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 

We convinced him quickly that the possi- 
biHty of war was absolutely nil and con- 
tinued our festivity. 

On the next day we were ordered to take 
the field. 

We Cross the Frontier 

T^ O us cavalry men on the frontier the 
'*' word "war" had nothing unfamiliar. 
Everyone of us knew to the smallest detail 
what to do and what to leave undone. At 
the same time, nobody had a very clear idea, 
what the first thing would be. Every 
soldier was delighted to be able to show his 
capacity and his personal value. 

We young cavalry Lieutenants had the 
most interesting task. We were to study 
the ground, to work towards the rear of the 
enemy, and to destroy important objects. 
All these tasks require real men. 

Having in my pocket my directions and 
having convinced myself of their impor- 
tance, through hard study during at least a 
year, I rode at the head of a file of soldiers 
for the first time against the enemy at 
twelve o'clock midnight. 

31 



THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 

A river marks the frontier and I expected 
to be fired upon on reaching it. To my as- 
tonishment I could pass over the bridge 
vsrithout an incident. On the next morning, 
without having had any adventures, we 
reached the church tower of the village of 
Kieltze, which was well known to us through 
our frontier rides. 

Everything had happened without seeing 
anything of the enemy or rather without 
being seen by him. The question now was 
what should I do in order not to be noticed 
by the villagers? My first idea was to lock 
up the "pope"*. We fetched him from his 
house, to his great surprise. I locked him 
up among the bells in the church tower, took 
away the ladder and left him sitting up 
above. I assured him that he would be exe- 
cuted if the population should show any 
hostile inclinations. A sentinel placed on the 
tower observed the neighborhood. 

I had to send reports every day by dis- 
patch-riders. Very soon my small troop 
was converted entirely into dispatch-riders 

•Russian priest. 

32 



THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 

and dissolved, so that I had at last, as the 
only one remaining, to bring in my own 
report. 

Up to the fifth night everything had been 
quiet. During that night the sentinel came 
suddenly rushing to the church tower near 
which the horses had been put. He called 
out, "The Cossacks are there!" The night 
was as dark as pitch. It rained a little. No 
stars were visible. One couldn't see a yard 
ahead. 

As a precaution we had previously 
breached the wall around the churchyard. 
Through the breach we took the horses into 
the open. The darkness was so great that 
we were in perfect security after having ad- 
vanced fifty yards. I myself went with the 
sentinel, carbine in hand, to the place where 
he pretended he had seen Cossacks. 

Gliding along the churchyard wall I came 
to the street. When I got there I experi- 
enced a queer feeling, for the street swarmed 
with Cossacks. I looked over the wall, be- 
hind which the rascals had put the horses. 
Most of them had lanterns, and they acted 

33 



THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 

very uncautiously and were very loud. I esti- 
mated that there were from twenty to thirty 
of them. One had left his horse and gone to 
the Pope whom I had let off the day before. 

Immediately it flashed through my brain: 
"Of course we are betrayed!" Therefore, 
we had to be doubly careful. I could not 
risk a fight because I could not dispose of 
more than two carbines. Therefore, I re- 
solved to play at robber and police. 

After having rested a few hours, our 
visitors rode away again. 

On the next day I thought it wise to 
change our quarters. On the seventh day 
I was again back in my garrison and every- 
one stared at me as if I were a ghost. The 
staring was not due to my unshaved face, 
but because there had been a rumor that 
Wedel and I had fallen at Kalisch. The 
place where it had occurred, the time and all 
the circumstances of my death had been re- 
ported with such a wealth of detail that the 
report had spread throughout Silesia. My 
mother had already received visits of con- 
dolence. The only thing that had been 

34 



THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 

omitted was an announcement of my death 
in the newspaper. 

An amusing incident happened about the 
same time. A veterinary surgeon had been 
ordered to take ten Uhlans and to requisi- 
tion horses on a farm. The farm was situ- 
ated about two miles from the road. He 
came back full of excitement and reported 
to us: 

"I was riding over a stubble field, the field 
where the scarecrows are, when I suddenly 
saw hostile infantry at a distance. With- 
out a moment's hesitation I drew my sword 
and ordered the Uhlans to attack them with 
their lances. The men were delighted and 
at the fastest gallop they rushed across the 
field. When we came near the enemy I dis- 
covered that the hostile infantry consisted 
of some deer which were grazing in a near- 
by meadow. At that distance I had mis- 
taken them for soldiers, owing to my short- 
sightedness." 

For a long time that dear gentleman had 
to suflfer the pleasantries of the rest of us 
because of his bold attack. 

35 



THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 

To France 
^Xl^ were ordered to take the train in 
my garrison town. No one had any 
idea in what direction we were to go. 

There were many rumors but most of the 
talk was very wild. However, in this present 
case, we had the right idea : westward. 

A second-class compartment had been 
given to four of us. We had to take in 
provisions for a long railway journey. 
Liquid refreshments, of course, were not 
lacking. However, already on the first day 
we discovered that a second-class compart- 
ment is altogether too narrow for four war- 
like youths. Therefore, we resolved to dis- 
tribute ourselves. I arranged part of a 
luggage car and converted it into a bed- 
drawing room, to my great advantage. I 
had light, air, and plenty of space. I pro- 
cured straw at one of the stations and put 
a tent cloth on top of it. In my improvised 
sleeping-car I slept as well as I did in my 
four-poster in Ostrowo. We traveled night 
and day, first through Silesia, and then 
through Saxony, going westward all the 

36 



THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 

time. Apparently we were going in the 
direction of Metz. Even the train conductor 
did not know where he was going to. At 
every station, even at stations where we did 
not stop, there were huge crowds of men 
and women who bombarded us with cheers 
and flowers. The German nation had been 
seized by a wild war enthusiasm. That was 
evident. The Uhlans were particularly ad- 
mired. The men in the train who had passed 
through the station before us had probably 
reported that we had met the enemy, and 
we had been at war only for a week. Be- 
sides, my regiment had been mentioned in 
the first official communique. The 1st Regi- 
ment of Uhlans and the 155th Regiment of 
Infantry had taken Kalisch. We were there- 
fore celebrated as heroes and naturally felt 
like heroes. Wedel had found a Cossack 
sword which he showed to admiring girls. 
He made a great impression with it. Of 
course we asserted that blood was sticking 
to it and we invented hair-raising tales about 
this peaceful sword of a police officer. We 
were very wild and merry until we were 

37 



THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 

disembarked from the train at Busendorf, 
near Diedenhofen. 

A short time before the train arrived we 
were held up in a long tunnel. It is un- 
comfortable enough to stop in a tunnel in 
peace time, but to stop suddenly in war is 
still more uncomfortable. Some excited, 
high-spirited fellow wanted to play a joke 
and fired a shot. Before long there was 
general firing in the tunnel. It was sur- 
prising that no one was hurt. It has never 
been found out how the general shooting 
was brought about. 

At Busendorf we had to get out of the 
train. The heat was so great that our horses 
almost collapsed. On the following day we 
marched unceasingly northward in the direc- 
tion of Luxemburg. In the meantime, I had 
discovered that my brother had ridden in 
the same direction with a cavalry division a 
week before. I discovered his spoor once 
more, but I didn't see him until a year later. 

Arrived in Luxemburg no one knew what 
were our relations with the people of that 
little State. When I saw a Luxemburg 

38 



THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 

prisoner. He told me that he would com- 
plain about me to the German Emperor if 
I did not set him free immediately. I 
thought there was reason in what he said. 
So I let him go. We passed through the 
town of Luxemburg and through Esch and 
we approached the first fortified towns of 
Belgium. 

While advancing our infantry, and in- 
deed, our whole division, manoeuvred ex- 
actly as in peace time. All were extremely 
excited. It was a good thing that we had 
to act exactly as we had done at manoeuvres, 
otherwise' we should certainly have done 
some wild things. To the right and to the 
left of us, before and behind us, on every 
road, marched troops belonging to diflferent 
army corps. One had the feeling that 
everything was in a great disorder. Sud- 
denly, this unspeakable cuddle-muddle was 
dissolved and became a most wonderfully 
arranged evolution. 

I was entirely ignorant about the activi- 
ties of our flying men, and I got tremen- 
dously excited whenever I saw an aviator. 

39 



THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 

Of course I had not the slightest idea 
whether it was a German airman, or an 
enemy. I had at that time not even the 
knowledge that the German machines were 
marked with crosses and the enemy ma- 
chines with circles. The consequence was 
that every aeroplane we saw was fired upon. 
Our old pilots are still telling of their painful 
feelings while being shot at by friend and 
enemy with perfect impartiality. 

We marched and marched, sending patrols 
far ahead, until we arrived at Arlon. I had 
an uneasy feeling when crossing, for a sec- 
ond time, an enemy frontier. Obscure re- 
ports of francs-tireurs, had already come to 
my ears. 

I had been ordered to work in connection 
with my cavalry division, acting as a con- 
necting link. On that day I had ridden no 
less than sixty-six miles* with my men. Not 
a horse failed us. That was a splendid 
achievement. At Arlon I climbed the steeple 
in accordance with the tactical principles 

•This seems to be a translator's mistake for kilometres, which 
would mean a little over 40 miles— in itself a sufficiently fine per- 
formance. 

40 



THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 

which we had been taught in peace time. 
Of course, I saw nothing, for the wicked 
enemy was still far away. 

At that time we were very harmless. For 
instance, I had my men outside the town 
and had ridden alone on bicycle right 
through the town to the church tower and 
ascended it. When I came down again I was 
surrounded by a crowd of angry young men 
who made hostile eyes and who talked 
threateningly in undertones. My bicycle 
had, of course, been punctured and I had 
to go on foot for half an hour. This inci- 
dent amused me. I should have been de- 
lighted had it come to a fight. I felt abso- 
lutely sure of myself with a pistol in my 
hand. 

Later on I heard that several days previ- 
ously, the inhabitants had behaved very 
seditiously towards our cavalry, and later 
on towards our hospitals. It had therefore 
been found necessary to place quite a num- 
ber of these gentlemen against the wall. 

In the afternoon I reached the station to 
which I had been ordered, and learned that 

41 



THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 

close to Arlon my only cousin Richthofen 
had been killed three days before. During 
the rest o£ the day I stayed with the Cav- 
alry Division. During the night a cause- 
less alarm took place, and late at night I 
reached my own regiment. 

That was a beautiful time. We cavalry 
men who had already been in touch with the 
enemy and had seen something of war, 
were envied by the men of the other armies. 
For me it was the most beautiful time during 
the whole of the war. I would much like 
to pass again through the beginning of the 
war. 

/ Hear the Whistling of the First 
Bullets. {2i-22nd August, 1915) 

T had been ordered to find out the strength 
of the enemy occupying the large forest 
near Virton. I started with fifteen Uhlans 
and said to myself: "To-day I shall have 
the first fight with the enemy." But my 
task was not easy. In so big a forest there 
may be lots of things hidden which one can 
not see. 



42 



THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 

I went to the top of a little hill. A few 
hundred paces in front of me was a huge 
forest extending over many thousands of 
acres. It was a beautiful August morning. 
The forest seemed so peaceful and still that 
I almost forgot all my war-like ideas. 

We approached the margin of the forest. 
As we could not discover anything suspi- 
cious with our field glasses we had to go 
near and find out whether we should be fired 
upon. The men in front were swallowed up 
by a forest lane. I followed and at my side 
was one of my best Uhlans. At the entrance 
to the forest was a lonely forester's cottage. 
We rode past it. 

The soil indicated that a short time pre- 
viously considerable numbers of hostile 
cavalry must have passed. I stopped my 
men, encouraged them by addressing a few 
words to them, and felt sure that I could 
absolutely rely upon everyone of my 
soldiers. Of course no one thought of any- 
thing except of attacking the enemy. It 
lies in the instinct of every German to rush 
at the enemy wherever he meets him, par- 

43 



THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 

ticularly if he meets hostile cavalry. In my 
mind's eye I saw myself at the head of my 
Httle troop sabering a hostile squadron, and 
was quite intoxicated with joyful expecta- 
tion. The eyes of my Uhlans sparkled. Thus 
we followed the spoor at a rapid trot. After 
a sharp ride of an hour through the most 
beautiful mountaindale the wood became 
thinner. We approached the exit. I felt 
convinced that there we should meet the 
enemy. Therefore, caution! To the right 
of our narrow path was a steep rocky wall 
many yards high. To the left, was a narrow 
rivulet and at the further side a meadow, 
fifty yards wide, surrounded by barbed wire. 
Suddenly, the trace of horses' hooves disap- 
peared over a bridge into the bushes. My 
leading men stopped because the exit from 
the forest was blocked by a barricade. 

Immediately I recognized that I had fallen 
into a trap. I saw a movement among, the 
bushes behind the meadow at my left and 
noticed dismounted hostile cavalry. I esti- 
mated that there were fully one hundred 
rifles. In that direction nothing could be 

44 



THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 

done. My path right ahead was cut by the 
barricade. To the right were steep rocks. To 
the left the barbed wire surrounded the 
meadow and prevented me attacking as I had 
intended. Nothing was to be done except to 
go back. I knew that my dear Uhlans would 
be willing to do everything except to run 
away from the enemy. That spoilt our fun, 
for a second later we heard the first shot 
which was followed by very intensive rifle 
fire from the wood. The distance was from 
fifty to one hundred yards. I had told my 
men that they should join me immediately 
when they saw me lifting up my hand. I 
felt sure we had to go back. So I lifted my 
arm and beckoned my men to follow. Pos- 
sibly, they misunderstood my gesture. The 
cavalrymen who were following me believed 
me in danger, and they came rushing along 
at a great speed to help me to get away. As 
we were on a narrow forest path one can 
imagine the confusion which followed. The 
horses of the two men ahead rushed away in 
a panic because the noise of every shot was 
increased tenfold by the narrowness of the 

45 



THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 

hollow way. The last I saw of them was 
as they leaped the barricade. I never heard 
anything of them again. They were no 
doubt made prisoners. I myself turned my 
horse and gave him the spurs, probably for 
the first time during his life. I had the 
greatest difficulty to make the Uhlans who 
rushed towards me understand that they 
should not advance any further, that we 
were to turn round and get away. My 
orderly rode at my side. Suddenly his horse 
was hit and fell. I jumped over them and 
horses were rolling all around me. In short' 
it was a wild disorder. The last I saw of my 
servant, he was lying under his horse, ap- 
parently not wounded, but pinned down by 
the weight of the animal. The enemy had 
beautifully surprised us. He had probably 
observed us from the very beginning and 
had intended to trap us and to catch us una- 
wares as is the character of the French. 

I was delighted when, two days later, I 
saw my servant standing before me. He 
wore only one boot for he had left the other 
one under the body of his horse. He told 

46 



THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 

me how he had escaped. At least two squad- 
rons of French cuirassiers had issued from 
the forest in order to plunder the fallen 
horses and the brave Uhlans. Not being 
wounded, he had jumped up, climbed the 
rocks and had fallen down exhausted among 
the bushes. About two hours later, when the 
enemy had again hidden himself, he had con- 
tinued his flight. So he had joined me after 
some days, but he could tell me little about 
the fate of his comrades who had been left 
behind. 

A Ride With Loen 

THE battle of Virton was proceeding. 
My comrade Loen and I had once more 
to ascertain what had become of the enemy. 
We rode after the enemy during the whole 
of the day, reached him at last and were 
able to write a very decent report. In the 
evening, the great question was: Shall we 
go on riding, throughout the night in order 
to join our troops, or shall we economize our 
strength and take a rest so that we shall 
be fresh the next day? The splendid thing 

47 



THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 

about cavalrymen on patrol is that they are 
given complete liberty of action. 

We resolved to pass the night near the 
enemy and to ride on the next morning. Ac- 
cording to our strategical notions, the enemy 
was retiring and we were following him. 
Consequently, we could pass the night with 
fair security. 

Not far from the enemy there was a won- 
derful monastery with large stables. So 
both Loen and I had quarters for ourselves 
and our men. Of course, in the evening, 
when we entered our new domicile, the 
enemy was so near that he could have shot 
us through the windows. 

The monks were extremely amiable. They 
gave us as much to eat and to drink as we 
cared to have and we had a very good time. 
The saddles were taken off the horses and 
they were very happy when for the first time 
in three days and three nights, a dead weight 
of nearly three hundred pounds was taken 
from their backs. We settled down as if 
we were on manoeuvres and as if we were 
in the house of a delightful host and friend. 

48 



THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 

At the same time, it should be observed 
that three days later, we hanged several of 
our hosts to the lanterns because they could 
not overcome their desire to take a hand in 
the w^ar. But that evening they were really 
extremely amiable. We got into our night- 
shirts, jumped into bed, posted a sentinel, 
and let the Lord look after us. 

In the middle of the night somebody sud- 
denly flung open the door and shouted: 
"Sir, the French are there!" I was too 
sleepy and too heavy to be able to reply. 
Loen, who was similarly incapacitated, gave 
the most intelligent answer: "How many 
are they?" The soldier stammered, full of 
excitement" "We have shot dead two, but 
we cannot say how many there are for it is 
pitch dark." I heard Loen reply, in a sleepy 
tone: "All right. When more arrive call me 
again." Half a minute later both of us were 
snoring again. 

The sun was already high in the horizon 
when we woke up from a refreshing sleep 
the next morning. We took an ample break- 
fast and then continued our journey. 

49 



THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 

As a matter of fact, the French had passed 
by our castle during the night and our senti- 
nels had fired on them. As it was a very 
dark night nothing further followed. 

Soon we passed through a pretty valley. 
We rode over the old battlefield of our 
Division and discovered, to our surprise, that 
it was peopled not with German soldiers, but 
with French Red Cross men. Here and 
there were French soldiers. They looked as 
surprised at seeing us as we did at seeing 
them. Nobody thought of shooting. We 
cleared out as rapidly as possible and gradu- 
ally it dawned upon us that our troops, in- 
stead of advancing, had retired. Fortun- 
ately, the enemy had retired at the same 
time in the opposite direction. Otherwise 
I should now be somewhere in captivity. 

We passed through the village of Robel- 
mont where, on the previous day, we had 
seen our Infantry in occupation. We en- 
countered one of the inhabitants and asked 
him what had become of our soldiers. He 
looked very happy and assured me that the 
Germans had departed. 

50 



THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 

Late in the afternoon I reached my regi- 
ment and was quite satisfied with the course 
of events during the last twenty-four hours. 



51 



Ill 

Boredom Before Verdun 

T AM a restless spirit. Consequently my 
-*• activity in front of Verdun can only be 
described as boresome. At the beginning I 
was in the trenches at a spot where nothing 
happened. Then I became a dispatch- 
bearer and hoped to have some adventures. 
But there I was mistaken. The fighting 
men immediately degraded me and con- 
sidered me a Base-hog. I was not really at 
the Base but I was not allowed to advance 
further than within 1500 yards behind the 
front trenches. There, below the ground, I 
had a bomb-proof, heated habitation. Now 
and then I had to go to the front trenches. 
That meant great physical exertion, for one 
had to trudge uphill and downhill, criss- 
cross, through an unending number of 

52 



THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 

trenches and mire-holes until at last one 
arrived at a place where men were firing. 
After having paid a short visit to the fight- 
ing men, my position seemed to me a very 
stupid one. 

At that time. the digging business was 
beginning. It had not yet become clear to 
Lis what it means to dig approaches and end- 
less trenches. Of course, we knew the 
names of the various ditches and holes 
through the lessons which we had received 
at the War Academy. However, the digging 
was considered to be the business of the 
military engineers. Other troops were sup- 
posed not to take a hand in it. Here, near 
Combres, everyone was digging industri- 
ously. Every soldier had a spade and a pick 
and took all imaginable trouble in order to 
get as deeply into the ground as possible. 
It was very strange that in many places 
the French were only five yards ahead of us. 
One could hear them speak and see them 
smoke cigarettes and now and then they 
threw us a piece of paper. We conversed 
with them, but nevertheless, we tried to 

53 



THE RED BATTLE-FLYER . 

annoy them in every possible way, especially 
with hand grenades. 

Five hundreds yards in front of us and five 
hundred yards behind the trenches the dense 
forest of the Cote Lorraine had been cut 
down by the vast number of shells and 
bullets which were fired unceasingly. It 
seemed unbelievable that in front men could 
live. Nevertheless, the men in t'he front 
trenches were not in as bad a position as the 
men at the Base. 

After a morning visit to the front 
trenches, which usually took place at the 
earliest hours of the day, the more tedious 
business began. I had to attend to the tele- 
phone. 

On days when I was off duty I indulged 
in my favorite pastime, game shooting. The 
forest of La Chaussee gave me ample oppor- 
tunities. When going for a ride I had no- 
ticed that there were wild pigs about and 
I tried to find out where I could shoot them 
at night. Beautiful nights, with a full moon 
and snow, came to my aid. With the assis- 
tance of my servant I built a shelter seat 

54 



THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 

in a tree, at a spot where the pigs 
passed, and waited there at night. Thus 
I passed many a night sitting on the 
branch of a tree and on the next morn- 
ing found that I had become an icicle. 
However, I got my reward. There was a 
sow which was particularly interesting. 
Every night she swam across the lake, broke 
into a potato field, always at the same spot, 
and then she swam back again. Of course 
I very much wished to improve my acquaint- 
ance with the animal. So I took a seat 
on the other shore of the lake. In accord- 
ance with our previous arrangement. Auntie 
Pig appeared at midnight for her supper. I 
shot her while she was still swimming and 
she would have been drowned had I not 
succeeded at the last moment in seizing her 
by the leg. 

At another time, I was riding with my 
servant along a narrow path. Suddenly I 
saw several wild pigs crossing it. Immedi- 
ately I jumped from the horse, grasped my 
servant's carbine and rushed several hundred 
yards ahead. At the end of the procession 

55 



THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 

came a mighty boar. I had never yet seen 
such a beast and was surprised at its gigantic 
size. Now it ornaments my room and re- 
minds me of my encounter. 

In this manner I passed several months 
when, one fine day, our division became busy. 
We intended a small attack. I was de- 
lighted, for now at last I should be able to 
do something as a connecting link! But 
there came another disappointment! I was 
given quite a different job and now I had 
enough of it. I sent a letter to my Com- 
manding General and evil tongues report 
that I told him: ''My dear Excellency! I 
have not gone to war in order to collect 
cheese and eggs, but for another purpose." 
At first, the people above wanted to snarl 
at me. But then they fulfilled -my wish. 
Thus I joined the Flying Service at the end 
of May, 1915. My greatest wish was ful- 
filled. 



56 



IV 

In the Air 

nPHE next morning at seven o'clock 
^ I was to fly for the first time as an 
observer ! — I w^as naturally very excited, for 
I had no idea what it would be like. Every- 
one whom I had asked about his feelings 
told me a different tale. The night before, 
I went to bed earlier than usual in order to 
be thoroughly refreshed the next morning. 
We drove over to the flying ground, and I got 
into a flying machine for the first time. The 
draught from the propeller was a beastly 
nuisance. I found it quite impossible to make 
myself understood by the pilot. Everything 
was carried away by the wind. If I took up 
a piece of paper it disappeared. My safety 
helmet slid off. My muflier dropped off. 
My jacket was not sufficiently buttoned. In 

57 



THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 

short, I felt very uncomfortable. Before I 
knew what was happening, the pilot went 
ahead at full speed and the machine started 
rolling. We went faster and faster. I 
clutched the sides of the car. Suddenly, the 
shaking was over, the machine was in the 
air and the earth dropped away from under 
me. 

I had been told the name of the place to 
which we were to fly. I was to direct my 
pilot. At first we flew right ahead, then my 
pilot turned to the right, then to the left, but 
I had lost all sense of direction above our 
own aerodrome. I had not the slightest 
notion where I was! I began very cau- 
tiously to look over the side at the country. 
The men looked ridiculously small. The 
houses seemed to come out of a child's toy 
box. Everything seemed pretty. Cologne 
was in the background. The cathedral 
looked like a a little toy. It was a glorious 
feeling to be so high above the earth, to be 
master of the air. I didn't care a bit where 
I was and I felt extremely sad when my 
pilot thought it was time to go down again. 

58 



THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 

I should have liked best to start immedi- 
ately on another flight. I have never had 
any trouble in the air such as vertigo. The 
celebrated American swings are to me dis- 
gusting. One does not feel secure in them, 
but in a flying machine one possesses a 
feeling of complete security. One sits in 
an aeroplane as in an easy chair. Vertigo is 
impossible. No man exists who has been 
turned giddy by flying. At the same time, 
flying affects one's nerves. When one races 
full speed through the air, and particularly 
when one goes down again, when the aero- 
plane suddenly dips, when the engine stops 
running, and when the tremendous noise is 
followed by an equally tremendous silence, 
then I would frantically clutch the sides and 
think that I was sure to fall to the ground. 
However, everything happened in such a 
matter-of-fact and natural way, and the 
landing, when we again touched terra firma 
was so simple, that I could not have such a 
feeling as fear. I was full of enthusiasm 
and should have liked to remain in an aero- 
plane all day long. I counted the hours to 

59 



THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 

the time when we should start out again. 
As an Observer with Mackdnsen 

f~\N the 10th of June, 1915 I came to 
^"-^ Grossenhain. Thence I was to be sent 
to the front. I was anxious to go forward 
as quickly as possible. I feared that I might 
come too late, that the world-war might be 
over. I should have had to spend three 
months to become a pilot. By the time the 
three months had gone by, peace might have 
been concluded. Therefore, it never occurred 
to me to become a pilot. I imagined that, 
owing to my training as a cavalryman, I 
might do well as an observer. I was very 
happy when, after a fortnight's flying experi- 
ence, I was sent out, especially as I was 
sent to the only spot where there was still 
a chance of a war of movement. I was sent 
to Russia. 

Mackensen was advancing gloriously. He 
had broken through the Russian position at 
Gorlice and I joined his army when we were 
taking Rawa Ruska. I spent a day at the 
aviation base and then I was sent to the 

60 



THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 

celebrated 69th Squadron. Being quite a be- 
ginner I felt very foolish. My pilot was a 
big gun, First Lieutenant Zeumer. He is 
now a cripple. Of the other men of the Sec- 
tion, I am the only survivor. 

Now came my most beautiful time. Life 
in the Flying Corps is very much like life 
in the cavalry. Every day, morning and 
afternoon, I had to fly and to reconnoiter, 
and I have brought back valuable informa- 
tion many a time. 

With Hoick in Russia. (Summer, 1Q15) 

pvURING June, July and August, 1915, I 
^^ remained with the Flying Squadron 
which participated in Mackensen's advance 
from Gorlice to Brest-Litovsk. I had joined 
it as quite a juvenile observer and had not 
the slightest idea of anything. 

As a cavalryman my business had con- 
sisted in reconnoitering. So the Aeroplane 
Service as an observer was in my line and 
it amused me vastly to take part in the 
gigantic reconnoitering flights which we un- 
dertook nearly every day. 

61 



THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 

For an observer it is important to find a 
pilot with a strong character. One fine day 
we were told, "Count Hoick will join us." 
Immediately I thought, "That is the man I 
want." 

Hoick made his appearance, not as one 
would imagine, in a 60 h. p. Mercedes 
or in a first-class sleeping car. He came on 
foot. After traveling by railway for days 
and days he had arrived in the vicinity of 
Jaroslav. Here he got out of the train for 
there was once more an unending stoppage. 
He told his servant to travel on with the 
luggage while he would go on foot. He 
marched along and after an hour's walking 
looked back, but the train did not follow 
him. So he walked and walked and walked 
without being overtaken by the train until, 
after a thirty-mile walk, he arrived in Rawa 
Ruska, his objective. Twenty-four hours 
later his orderly appeared with the luggage. 
His thirty-mile walk proved no difficulty to 
that sportsman. His body was so well 
trained that he did not feel the tramp he had 
undertaken. 

65 



THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 



Count Hoick was not only a sportsman on 
land. Flying also was to him a sport which 
gave him the greatest pleasure. He was 
a pilot of rare talent and particularly, and 
that is, after all, the principal thing. He tow- 
ered head and shoulders above the enemy. 

We went on many a beautiful reconnoiter- 
ing flight — I do not know how far — into 
Russia. Although Hoick was so young I 
had never a feeling of insecurity with him. 
On the contrary he was always a support to 
me in critical moments. When I looked 
around and saw his determined face I had 
always twice as much courage as I had had 
before. 

My last flight with him nearly led to 
trouble. We had not had definite orders to 
fly. The glorious thing in the flying service 
is that one feels that one is a perfectly free 
man and one's own master as soon as one 
is up in the air. 

We had to change our flying base and we 
were not quite certain in which meadow we 
were to land. In order not to expose our 
machine to too much risk in landing we flew 

63 



THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 

in the direction of Brest-Litovsk. The Rus- 
sians were retiring everywhere. The whole 
countryside was burning. It was a terribly 
beautiful picture. We intended to ascertain 
the direction of the enemy columns, and in 
doing so flew over the burning town of 
Wicznice. A gigantic smoke cloud, which 
went up to about 6,000 feet, prevented us 
continuing our flight because we flew at an 
altitude of only 4,500 feet in order to see 
better. For a moment Hoick reflected. I 
asked him what he intended to do and ad- 
vised him to fly around the smoke cloud 
which would have involved a round-about 
way of five minutes. Hoick did not intend to 
do this. On the contrary. The greater the 
danger was the more the thing attracted him. 
Therefore straight through! I enjoyed it, 
too, to be together with such a daring fel- 
low. Our venturesomeness nearly cost us 
dear. As soon as the tail-end of the machine 
had disappeared in the smoke the aeroplane 
began to reel. I could not see a thing for the 
smoke made my eyes water. The air was 
much warmer and beneath me I saw nothing 

64 



THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 

but a huge sea of fire. Suddenly the ma- 
chine lost its balance and fell, turning round 
and round. I managed to grasp a stay and 
hung on to it. Otherwise I should have been 
thrown out of the machine. The first thing 
I did was to look at Hoick and immediately 
I regained my courage for his face showed 
an iron confidence. The only thought which 
I had was: "It is stupid, after all, to die so 
unnecessarily a hero's death." 

Later on, I asked Hoick what had been 
his thoughts at the moment. He told me he 
had never experienced so unpleasant a feel- 
ing. 

We fell down to an altitude of 1500 feet 
above the burning town. Either through the 
skill of my pilot or by a Higher Will, per- 
haps by both, we suddenly dropped out of 
the smoke cloud. Our good Albatros found 
itself again and once more flew straight 
ahead as if nothing had happened. 

We had now had enough of it and instead 
of going to a new base intended to return 
to our old quarter as quickly as possible. 
After all, we were still above the Russians 

6S 



THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 

and only at an altitude of 1500 feet. Five 
minutes later I heard Hoick, behind me, ex- 
claiming: 'The motor is giving out." 

I must add that Hoick had not as much 
knowledge of motors as he had of horse- 
flesh and I had not the slightest idea of 
mechanics. The only thing which I knew 
was that we should have to land among the 
Russians if the motor went on strike. So 
one peril had followed the other. 

I convinced myself that the Russians be- 
neath us were still marching with energy. 
I could see them quite clearly from our low 
altitude. Besides it was not necessary to 
look, for the Russians shot at us with ma- 
chine-guns with the utmost diligence. The 
firing sounded like chestnuts roasting near 
a fire. 

Presently the motor stopped running alto- 
gether, for it had been hit. So we went 
lower and lower. We just managed to 
glide over a forest and landed at last in an 
abandoned artillery position which, the eve- 
ning before, had still been occupied by Rus- 
sians, as I had reported. 

66 



THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 

I told Hoick my impressions. We jumped 
out of our box and tried to rush into the 
forest nearby, where we might have de- 
fended ourselves. I had with me a pistol 
and six cartridges. Hoick had nothing. 

When we had reached the wood we 
stopped and I saw with my glasses that a 
soldier was running towards our aeroplane. 
I was horrified to see that he wore not a 
spiked helmet but a cap. So I felt sure that 
it was a Russian. When the man came 
nearer Hoick shouted with joy, for he was 
a Grenadier of the Prussian Guards. 

Our troops had once more stormed the 
position at the break of day and had broken 
through into the enemy batteries. 

On that occasion Hoick lost his little fa- 
vorite, his doggie. He took the little animal 
with him in every flight. The dog would lie 
always quietly on Hoick's fur in the fusilage. 
He was still with us when we were in the 
forest. Soon after, when we had talked 
with the Guardsman, German troops passed 
us. They were the stafifs of the Guards and 
Prince Eitel Friedrich with his Adjutants 

67 



THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 

and his Orderly Officers. The Prince sup- 
plied us with horses so that we two cavalry- 
men were sitting once more on oat-driven 
motors. Unfortunately doggie was lost 
while we were riding. Probably he followed 
other troops by mistake. 

Later in the evening we arrived in our 
old flying base on a cart. The machine was 
smashed. 

Russia — Ostend {From the Two- 
Seater to the T win-Engine d Fighter) 

nPHE German enterprise in Russia came 
^ gradually to a stop and suddenly I was 
gradually to a stop and suddenly I was 
transferred to a large battle-plane at Ostend 
on the twenty-first of August, 1915. There 
I met an old acquaintance, friend Zeumer. 
Besides I was attracted by the tempting 
name ''Large Battle-plane."* 

I had a very good time during this part 
of my service. I saw little of the war but my 
experiences were invaluable to me, for I 

•The Grossfleugzeug, or "G" class of German aeroplane, later 
given up as a flying machine owing to its slow speed and clumsiness 
in manoeuvre and used in its later developments for night-bombing 
only. 

68 



THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 

passed my apprenticeship as a battle-flier. 
We flew a great deal, we had rarely a fight 
in the air and we had no successes. We had 
siezed a hotel on the Ostend shore, and 
there we bathed every afternoon. Unfor- 
tunately the only frequenters of the water- 
ing-place were soldiers. Wrapped up in our 
many-colored bathing gowns we sat on the 
terraces of Ostend and drank our coffee in 
the afternoon. 

One fine day we were sitting as usual on 
the shore drinking coffee. Suddenly we 
heard bugles. We were told that an English 
squadron was approaching. Of course we 
did not allow ourselves to be alarmed and 
to be disturbed, but continued drinking our 
coffee. Suddenly somebody called out: 
"There they are!" Indeed we could see on 
the horizon, though not very distinctly, some 
smoking chimneys and later on could make 
out ships. Immediately we fetched our tele- 
scopes and observed them. There was in- 
deed quite an imposing number of vessels. 
It was not quite clear to us what they in- 
tended to do, but soon we were to know 

69 



THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 

better. We went up to the roof whence we 
could see more. Suddenly we heard a whis- 
tling in the air; then there came a big bang 
and a shell hit that part of the beach where 
a little before we had been bathing. I have 
never rushed as rapidly into the hero's 
cellar as I did at that moment. The EngHsh 
squadron shot perhaps three or four times 
at us and then it began bombarding the 
harbor and railway station. Of course they 
hit nothing but they gave a terrible fright 
to the Belgians. One shell fell right in the 
beautiful Palace Hotel on the shore. That 
was the only damage that was done. Hap- 
pily they destroyed only English capital, for 
it belonged to Englishmen. 

In the evening we flew again with energy. 
On one of our flights we had gone very far 
across the sea with our battle-plane. It had 
two motors and we were experimenting with 
a new steering gear which, we were told, 
would nable us to fly in a straight line with 
only Ingle motor working.* When we 
imagi- ; the confusion which followed. The 

*This apparently refers to an auto-lock arrangement on the 
rudder-bar to save the pilot from having the rudder against the 
engine all the time. 

70 



THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 

were fairly far out I saw beneath us, not 
on the water but below the surface, a ship. 
It is a funny thing. If the sea is quiet, one 
can look down from above to the bottom of 
the sea. Of course it is not possible where 
the sea is twenty-five miles deep but one can 
see clearly through several hundred yards of 
water. I had not made a mistake in believ- 
ing that the ship was traveling not on the 
surface but below the surface. Yet it seemed 
at first that it was traveling above water. 
I drew Zeumer's attention to my discovery 
and we went lower in order to see more 
clearly. I am too little of a naval expert to 
say what it was but it was clear to me that 
it was bound to be a submarine. But of 
what nationality? That is a difificult ques- 
tion which in my opinion can be solved only 
by a naval expert, and not always by him. 
One can scarcely distinguish colors under 
water and there is no flag. Besides a 
submarine does not carry such things. We 
had with us a couple of bombs and I debated 
with myself whether I should throw them 
or not. The submarine had not seen us for 

71 



THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 

it was partly submerged. We might have 
flown above it without danger and we might 
have waited until we found it necessary to 
come to the surface for air. Then we could 
have dropped our eggs. Herein lies, no 
doubt, a very critical point for our sister 
arm. 

When we had fooled around the appari- 
tion beneath us for quite a while I sud- 
denly noticed that the water was gradually 
disappearing from our cooling apparatus. 
I did not like that and I drew my 
colleague's attention to the fact. He pulled 
a long face and hastened to get home. 
However, we were approximately twelve 
miles from the shore and they had to be 
flown over. The motor began running more 
slowly and I was quietly preparing myself 
for a sudden cold immersion. But lo! 
and behold ! we got through ! Our giant 
apple-barge* barged along with a single 
motor and the new steering apparatus and 
we reached the shore and managed to land 

*A literal translation of the German slang, analagous more or 
less to the British term box-kite. 

^2 



THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 

in the harbor without any special difficulty. 
It is a good thing to be lucky. Had we 
not tried the new steering apparatus on that 
day there would not have been any hope 
for us. We should certainly have been 
drowned. 

A Drop of Blood for the Fatherland 

T HAVE never been really wounded. At 
^ the critical moment I have probably 
bent my head or pulled in my, chest. Often 
I have been surprised that they did not hit 
me. Once a bullet went through both my 
furlined boots. Another time a bullet went 
through my muffler. Another time one 
went along my arm through the fur and 
the leather jacket; biit I have never been 
touched. 

One fine day we started with our large 
battle-plane in order to delight the English 
with our bombs. We reached our object. 
The first bomb fell. It is very interesting 
to ascertain the effect of a bomb. At least 
one always likes to see it exploding. Unfor- 
tunately my large battle-plane, which was 

73 



THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 

well qualified for carrying bombs, had a 
stupid peculiarity which prevented me from 
seeing the effect of a bomb-throw, for im- 
mediately after the throw the machine came 
between my eye and the object and covered 
it completely with its planes. This always 
made me wild because one does not like to 
be deprived of one's amusement. If you 
hear a bang down below and see the delight- 
ful grayish-whitish cloud of the explosion 
in the neighborhood of the object aimed at, 
you are always very pleased. Therefore I 
waved to friend Zeumer that he should bend 
a little to the side. While waving to him 
I forgot that the infamous object on which I 
was traveling, my apple-barge, had two pro- 
pellers which turned to the right and left 
of my observer-seat.* I meant to show him 
where approximately the bomb had hit and 
bang! my finger was caught! I was some- 
what surprised when I discovered that my 

•From this disposition of the air-screws, and from the date of 
the occurrence, one assumes that this was one of the very earliest 
twin-engined Gothas, of the type which the R. F. C. nicknamed 
"Wong-wong," because of the curious noise made by the engines or 
air-screws when they ran out of step. 

74 



THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 

little finger had been damaged. Zeumer did 
not notice anything. 

Having been hit on the hand I did not care 
to throw any more bombs. I quickly got rid 
of the lot and we hurried home. My love 
for the large battle-plane, which after all 
had not been very great, suffered seriously 
in consequence of my experience. I had to 
sit quiet for seven days and was debarred 
from flying. Only my beauty was slightly 
damaged, but after all, I can say with pride 
that I also have been wounded in the war. 

My First Fight in the 
Air. (ist Sept., ipi^) 

T^ EUMER and I were very anxious to 
have a fight in the air. Of course we 
flew our large battle-plane. The title of 
our barge alone gave us so much courage 
that we thought it impossible for any oppo- 
nent to escape us. 

We flew every day from five to six hours 
without ever seeing an Englishman. I be- 
came quite discouraged, but one fine morn- 
ing we asfain went out to hunt. Suddenly 

75 



THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 

I discovered a Farman aeroplane which was 
reconnoitering without taking notice of us. 
My heart beat furiously when Zeumer flew 
towards it. I was curious to see what was 
going to happen. I had never witnessed a 
fight in the air and had about as vague an 
idea of it as it was possible to have. 

Before I knew what was happening both 
the Englishman and I rushed by one another. 
I had fired four shots at most while the 
Englishman was suddenly in our rear firing 
into us like anything. I must say I never 
had any sense of danger because I had no 
idea how the final result of such a fight 
would come about. We turned and turned 
around one another until at last, to our 
great surprise the Englishman turned away 
from us and flew ofif. I was greatly disap- 
pointed and so was my pilot. 

Both of us were in very bad spirits when 
we reached home. He reproached me for 
having shot badly and I reproached him for 
not having enabled me to shoot well. In I 
short our aeroplanic relations, which previ- 
ously had been faultless, sufifered severelv. 

76 



i 



THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 

We looked at our machine and discovered 
that it had received quite a respectable num- 
ber of hits. 

On the same day we went on the chase 
for a second time but again we had no suc- 
cess. I felt ver}'^ sad. I had imagined that 
things would be very different in a battle 
squadron. I had always believed that one 
shot would cause the enemy to fall, but soon 
I became convinced that a flying machine 
can stand a great deal of punishment. Fi- 
nally I felt assured that I should never bring 
down a hostile aeroplane, however much 
shooting I did. 

We did not lack courage. Zeumer was a 
wonderful flier and I was quite a good shot. 
We stood before a riddle. We were not the 
only ones to be puzzled. Many are nowadays 
in the same position in which we were then. 
After all the flying business must really be 
thoroughly understood. 

In the Champagne Battle 
t^^UR pleasant days at Ostend were soon 
^^ past, for the Champagne battle began 
and we flew to the front in order to take 

77 



THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 

part in it in our large battle-plane. Soon 
we discovered that our packing-case* was a 
capacious aeroplane but that it could never 
be turned into a good battle-plane. 

I flew once with Osteroth who had a 
smaller flier than the apple-barge. About 
three miles behind the front we encountered 
a Farman Two-seater. He allowed us to 
approach him and for the first time in my 
life I saw an aerial opponent from quite 
close by. Osteroth flew with great skill 
side by side with the enemy so that I could 
easily fire at him. Our opponent probably 
did not notice us, for only when I had 
trouble with my gun did he begin to shoot 
at us. When I had exhausted my supply 
of one hundred bullets I thought I could 
not trust my eyes when I suddenly 
noticed that my opponent was going] 
down in curious spirals. I followed himi 
with my eyes and tapped Osteroth'sj 
head to draw his attention. Our oppo- 
nent fell and fell and dropped at last into 

•Still another example of slang:, indicative of the clumsinest of 
the Grossfleugzeug in the air. 

78 



THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 

a large crater. There he was, his machine 
standing on its head, the tail pointing to- 
wards the sky. According to the map he 
had fallen three miles behind the front. We 
had therefore brought him down on enemy 
ground.* Otherwise I should have one more 
victory to my credit. I was very proud of 
my success. After all, the chief thing is 
to bring a fellow down. It does not matter 
at all whether one is credited for it or not. 

How I Met Boelcke 
PRIEND Zeumer got a Fokker Mono- 
plane. Therefore I had to sail through 
the world alone. The Champagne battle 
was raging. The French flying men were 
coming to the fore. We were to be com- 
bined in a battle squadron and took train 
on the first of October, 1915. 

In the dining car, at the table next to me, 
was sitting a young and insignificant-looking 
lieutenant. There was no reason to take 
any note of him except for the fact that 

•It was also the British custom to ignore — as part of the score — 
all machines brought down in enemy territory. Later it became 
permissible to count such victims if their destruction was verified by 
independent witnesses. 

79 



THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 

he was the only man who had succeeded in 
shooting down a hostile flying man not once 
but four times. His name had been men- 
tioned in the dispatches. I thought a great 
deal of him because of his experience. Al- 
though I had taken the greatest trouble, I 
had not brought an enemy down up to that 
time. At least I had not been credited with 
a success. 

I would have liked so much to find out 
how Lieutenant Boelcke managed his busi- 
ness. So I asked him: ''Tell me, how do you 
manage it?" He seemed very amused and 
laughed, although I had asked him quite 
seriously. Then he replied: "Well it is quite 
simple. I fly close to my man, aim well and 
then of course he falls down." I shook my 
head and told him that I did the same thing 
but my opponents unfortunately did not 
come down. The difference between him 
and me was that he flew a Fokker and I a 
large battle-plane. 

I took great trouble to get more closely 
acquainted with that nice modest fellow 
whom I badly wanted to teach me his busi- 

80 



THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 

ness. We often played cards together, went 
for walks and I asked him questions. At 
last I formed a resolution that Lalso would 
learn to fly a Fokker. Perhaps then my 
chances would improve. 

My whole aim and ambition became now 
concentrated upon learning how to manipu- 
late the sticks myself. Hitherto I had been 
nothing but an observer. Happily I soon 
found an opportunity to learn piloting on an 
old machine in the Champagne. I threw 
myself into the work with body and soul and 
after twenty-five training flights I stood 
before the examination in flying alone. 



8[ 



V 

My First Solo-Flight (10th October, 1915)' 

np HERE are some moments in one's life 
*- which tickle one's nerves particularly 
and the first solo-flight is among them. 

One fine evening my teacher, Zeumer, told 
me: "Now go and fly by yourself." I must 
say I felt like replying "I am afraid." But 
this is a word which should never be used 
by a man who defends his country. There- 
fore, whether I liked it or not, I had to make 
the best of it and get into my machine. 

Zeumer explained to me once more every 
movement in theory. I Scarcely listened to 
his explanations for I was firmly convinced 
that I should forget half of what he was 
telling me. 

I started the machine. The aeroplane 
went at the prescribed speed and I could not 

82 



THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 

help noticing that I was actually flying. 
After all I did not feel timorous but rather 
elated. I did not care for anything. I 
should not have been frightened no matter 
what happened. With contempt of death I 
made a large curve to the left, stopped the 
machine near a tree, exactly where I had 
been ordered to, and looked forward to see 
what would happen. Now came the most 
difficult thing, the landing. I remembered 
exactly what movements I had to make. I 
acted mechanically and the machine moved 
quite differently from what I had expected. 
I lost my balance, made some wrong move- 
ments, stood on my head and I succeeded in 
converting my aeroplane into a battered 
school 'bus. I was very sad, looked at the 
damage which I had done to the machine, 
which after all was not very great, and had 
to suffer from other people's jokes. 

Two days later I went with passion at 
the flying and suddenly I could handle the 
apparatus. 

A fortnight later I had to take my first 
examination. Herr von T was my 

83 



THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 

examiner. I described the figure eight sev- 
eral times, exactly as I had been told to do, 
landed several times with success, in accord- 
ance with orders received and felt very proud 
of my achievements. However, to my great 
surprise I was told that I had not passed. 
There was nothing to be done but to try 
once more to pass the initial examination. 

My Training Time at Doherits 
T N order to pass my examinations I had 
"*■ to go to Berlin. I made use of the oppor- 
tunity to go to Berlin as observer in a giant 
plane.* I was ordered to go by aeroplane to 
Doberitz near Berlin on the fifteenth of No- 
vember, 1915. In the beginning I took a 
great interest in the giant-plane. But 
funnily enough the gigantic machine made 
it clear to me that only the smallest aero- 
plane would be of any use for me in battle. 
A big aerial barge is too clumsy for fighting. 
Agility is needed and, after all, fighting is 
my business. 

•Possibly a very early example of the Riesenfleugzeug type, 
which is the next biggest thing to the Grossfleugzeug type, which 
includes the Gothas, A. E. G.'s, Friedrichshafens, and other of the 
twin-engined types. 

84 



THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 

The difference between a large battle- 
plane and a giant-plane is that a giant-plane 
is considerably larger than a large battle- 
plane and that it is more suitable for use as 
a bomb-carrier than as a fighter. 

I went through my examinations in Do- 
beritz together with a dear fellow, First 
Lieutenant von Lyncker. We got on very 
well with one another, had the same inclina- 
tions and the same ideas as to our future 
activity. Our aim was to fly Fokkers and 
to be included in a battle squadron on the 
Western front. A year later we succeeded 
in working together for a short time. A 
deadly bullet hit my dear friend when bring- 
ing down his third aeroplane. 

We passed many merry hours in Doberitz. 
One of the things which we had to do was 
to land in strange quarters. I used the op- 
portunity to combine the necessary with the 
agreeable. My favorable landing place out- 
side of our aerodrome was the Buchow 
Estate where I was well known. I was 
there invited to shoot wild pigs. The matter 
could be combined only with difficulty with 

85 



THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 

the service, for on fine evenings I v^ished 
both to fly and to shoot pigs. So I arranged 
for a place of landing in the neighborhood of 
Buchow v^hence I could easily reach my 
friends. 

I took w^ith me a second pilot, who served 
as an observer, and sent him back in the 
evening. During the night I shot pigs and 
on the next morning was fetched by my 
pilot. 

If I had not been fetched with the aero- 
plane I should have been in a hole for I 
should have had to march on foot a dis- 
tance of about six miles. So I required a 
man who would fetch me in any weather. It 
is not easy to find a man who will fetch you 
under any circumstances. 

Once, when I had passed the night trying 
to shoot pigs, a tremendous snowfall set in. 
One could not see fifty yards ahead. My 
pilot was to fetch me at eig'ht sharp. I 
hoped that for once he would not come. But 
suddenly I heard a humming noise — one 
could not see a thing — and five minutes later 
my beloved bird was squatting before me on 

86 



THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 

the ground. Unfortunately some of his 
bones had got bent. 

/ Become a Pilot 

(~^^ Christmas Day, 1915, I passed my 
^-^ third examination. In connection with 
it I flew to Schwerin, where the Fokker 
works are situated, and had a look at them. 
As observer I took with me my mechanic, 
and from Schwerin I flew with him to Bres- 
lau, from Breslau to Schweidnitz, from 
thence to Luben and then returned to Berlin. 
During my tour I landed in lots of different 
places in between, visiting relatives and 
friends. Being a trained observer, I did not 
find it difficult to find my way. 

In March, 1916, I joined the Second Battle 
Squadron before Verdun and learned air- 
fighting as a pilot. I learned how to handle 
a fighting aeroplane. I flew then a two- 
seater. 

In the official communique of the twenty- 
sixth of April, 1916, I am referred to for the 
first time, although my name is not men- 
tioned. Only my deeds appear in it. I had 

^7 



THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 

had built into my machine a machine gun, 
which I had arranged very much in the way 
in which it is done in the Nieuport ma- 
chines.* I was very proud of my idea. 
People laughed at the way I had fitted it up 
because the whole thing looked very primi- 
tive. Of course I swore by my new arrange- 
ment and very soon I had an opportunity of 
ascertaining its practical value. 

I encountered a hostile Nieuport machine 
which was apparently guided by a man who 
also was a beginner, for he acted extremely 
foolishly. When I flew towards him he ran 
away. Apparently he had trouble with his 
gun. I had no idea of fighting him but 
thought : "What will happen if I now start 
shooting?" I flew after him, approached 
him as closely as possible and then began 
firing a short series of well-aimed shots with 
rriy machine gun. The Nieuport reared up 
in the air and turned over and over. 



•It is not clear whether this refers to a gun pointing upwards, 
as guns at that time were commonly fitted on the upper plane of the 
Nieuport, or whether the gun fired through the air-screw. Prob- 
ably the latter fitting is meant. Later on one reads that he was 
then flying an Albatros, so it may have been a top gun. 

88 



THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 

At first both my observer and I believed 
that this was one of the numerous tricks 
which French fliers habitually indulge in. 
However, his tricks did not cease. Turning 
over and over, the machine went lower and 
lower. At last my observer patted me on 
the head and called out to me : "I congratu- 
late you. He is falling." As a matter of 
fact he fell into a forest behind Fort Douau- 
mont and disappeared among the trees. It 
became clear to me that I had shot him 
down, but on the other side of the Front. 
I flew home and reported merely: "I had an 
aerial fight and have shot down a Nieuport." 
The next day I read of my action in the offi- 
cial communique. Of course I was very 
proud of my success, but that Nieuport does 
not figure among the fifty-two aeroplanes 
which I have brought down.* 

The communique of the 26th of April 
stated: "Two hostile flying machines have 
been shot down by aerial fighting above 
Fleury, south and west of Douaumont." 

*Note. — This book was written after Captain von Richthofen 
had brought down fifty-two aeroplanes. At the time of his death 
he was officially credited with eighty victories. 

89 



THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 

Holck^s Death. {30th of April, 1916) 
A S a young pilot I once flew over Fort 
^^^ Douaumont at a moment when it was 
exposed to a violent drum-fire. I noticed 
that a German Fokker was attacking three 
Caudron machines. It was my misfortune 
that a strong west wind was blowing. That 
was not favorable to me. The Fokker was 
driven over the town of Verdun in the course 
of the fight. I drew the attention of my 
observer to the struggle. He thought that 
the German fighting man must be a very 
smart fellow. We wondered whether it 
could be Boelcke and intended to inquire 
when we came down. Suddenly, I saw to 
my horror that the German machine, which 
previously had attacked, had fallen back 
upon the defensive. The strength of the 
French fighting men had been increased to 
at least ten and their combined assaults 
forced the German machine to go lower and 
lower. 

I could not fly to the German's aid. I was 
too far away from the battle. Besides, my 
heavy machine could not overcome the 

90 



THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 

strong wind against me. The Fokker fought 
with despair. His opponents had rushed him 
down to an altitude of only about eighteen 
hundred feet. Suddenly, he was once more 
attacked by his opponents and he disap- 
peared, plunging into a small cloud. I 
breathed more easily, for in my opinion the 
cloud had saved him. 

When I arrived at the aerodrome, I re- 
ported what I had seen and was told that 
the Fokker man was Count Hoick, my old 
comrade in the Eastern Theater of war. 

Count Hoick had dropped straight down, 
shot through the head. His death deeply 
affected me for he was my model. I tried to 
imitate his energy and he was a man among 
men also as a character. 



91 



VI 



/ Fly In a Thunderstorm 

/'"^UR activity before Verdun was dis- 
^-^ turbed in the summer of 1916 by fre- 
quent thunderstorms. Nothing is more disa- 
greeable for flying men than to have to go 
through a thunderstorm. In the Battle of 
the Somme a whole English flying squadron 
came down behind our lines and became 
prisoners of war because they had been sur- 
prised by a thunderstorm.* 

I had never yet made an attempt to get 
through thunder clouds but I could not sup- 
press my desire to make the experiment. 
During the whole day thunder was in the 

*Probably this means a patrol of one or two flights — of four 
machines each. One does not recall a whole squadron disappear- 
ing at once, though one or two squadrons had their whole personnel 
renewed one or two at a time in the course of a month or so. 

92 



THE RED BATTLE- FLYER 

air. From my base at Mont I had flown over 
to the fortress of Metz, nearby, in order to 
look after various things. During my return 
journey I had an adventure. 

I was at the aerodrome of Metz and in- 
tended to return to my own quarters. When 
I pulled my machine out of the hangar the 
first signs of an approaching thunderstorm 
became noticeable. Clouds which looked 
like a gigantic pitch-black wall approached 
from the north. Old experienced pilots 
urged me not to fly. However, I had prom- 
ised to return and I should have considered 
myself a coward if I had failed to come back 
because of a silly thunderstorm. Therefore 
I meant to try. 

When I started the rain began falling. I 
had to throw away my goggles, otherwise 
I should not have seen anything. The 
trouble was that I had to travel over the 
mountains of the Moselle where the thun- 
derstorm was just raging. I said to myself 
that probably I should be lucky and get 
through and rapidly approached the black 
cloud which reached down to the earth, I 

93 



THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 

flew at the lowest possible altitude. I was 
compelled absolutely to leap over houses and 
trees with my machine. Very soon I knew 
no longer where I was. The gale seized my 
machine as if it were a piece of paper and 
drove it along. My heart sank within me. 
I could not land among the hills. I was com- 
pelled to go on. 

I was surrounded by an inky blackness. 
Beneath me the trees bent down in the gale. 
Suddenly I saw right in front of me a 
wooded height. I could not avoid it. My 
Albatros managed to take it. I was able 
to fly only in a straight line. Therefore I 
had to take every obstacle that I encoun- 
tered. My flight became a jumping compe- 
tition purely and simply. I had to jump over 
trees, villages, spires and steeples, for I had 
to keep within a few yards of the ground, 
otherwise I should have seen nothing at all. 
The lightning was playing around me. At 
that time I did not yet know that lightning 
cannot touch flying machines. I felt cer- 
tain of my death for it seemed to me inevi- 
table that the gale would throw me at any 

94 



j 



THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 

moment into a village or a forest. Had the 
motor stopped working I should have been 
done for. 

Suddenly I saw that on the horizon the 
darkness had become less thick. Over there 
the thunderstorm had passed. I would be 
saved if I were able to get so far. Concen- 
trating all my energy I steered towards the 
light. 

Suddenl}^ I got out of the thunder-cloud. 
The rain was still falling in torrents. Still, 
I felt saved. 

In pouring rain I landed at my aero- 
drome. Everyone was waiting for me, for 
Metz had reported my start and had told 
them that I had been swallowed up by a 
thunder cloud. 

I shall never again fly through a thunder- 
storm unless the Fatherland should demand 
this. 

Now, when I look back, I realize that it 
was all very beautiful. Nothwithstanding 
the danger during my flight, I experienced 
glorious moments which I would not care to 
have missed. 

95 



THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 

My First Time In a Fokker 
CROM the beginning of my career as a 
^ pilot I had only a single ambition, the am- 
bition to fly in a single-seater battle-plane. 
After worrying my commander for a long 
time I at last obtained permission to mount 
a Fokker. The revolving motor w^as a nov- 
elty to me. Besides, it w^as a strange feeling 
to be quite alone during the flight. 

The Fokker belonged jointly to a friend of 
mine who has died long ago and to myself. 
I flew in the morning and he in the after- 
noon. Both he and I were afraid that the 
other fellow would smash the box. On the 
second day we flew towards the enemy. 
When I flew in the morning no Frenchman 
was to be seen. In the afternoon it was his 
turn. He started but did not return. There 
was no news from him. 

Late in the evening the infantry reported 
an aerial battle between a Nieuport and a 
German Fokker, in the course of which the 
German machine had apparently landed at 
the Mort Homme. Evidently the occupant 
was friend Reimann for all the other flying 

96 



THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 

men had returned. We regretted the fate 
of our brave comrade. Suddenly, in the 
middle of the night, we heard over the tele- 
phone that a German flying officer had made 
an unexpected appearance in the front 
trenches at the Mort Homme. It appeared 
that this was Reimann. His motor had been 
smashed by a shot. He had been forced 
to land. Ag he was not able to reach our 
own lines he had come to the ground in 
No Man's Land. He had rapidly set fire to 
the machine and had then quickly hidden 
himself in a mine crater. During the night 
he had slunk into our trenches. Thus ended 
our joint enterprise with a Fokker. 

A few days later I was given another 
Fokker. This time I felt under a moral obli- 
gation to attend to its destruction myself. I 
was flying for the third time. When start- 
ing, the motor suddenly stopped working. I 
had to land right away in a field and in a 
moment the beautiful machine was con- 
verted into a mass of scrap metal. It was 
a miracle that I was not hurt. 



97 



VII 

Bombing In Russia 

T N June we were suddenly ordered to 
entrain. No one knew where we were 
going, but we had an idea and we were not 
over much surprised when our Commander 
told us that we were going to Russia. We 
had traveled through the whole of Germany 
with our perambulating hotel which con- 
sisted of dining and sleeping cars, and 
arrived at last at Kovel. There we remained 
in our railway cars. There are many advan- 
tages in dwelling in a train. One is always 
ready to travel on and need not change one's 
quarters.* 

In the heat of the Russian summer a sleep- 
ing car is the most horrible instrument of 
martyrdom imaginable. Therefore, I agreed 
with some friends of mine, Gerstenberg and 

*This is the first reference to the regular "Traveling Circus" 
idea, in which the whole squadron works as a self-contained unit, 
with a special train to move its material, stores, spares, and me- 
chanics, from place to place, and also provides living accommoda- 
tions for the pilots. 

98 



THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 

Scheele, to take quarters in the forest near 
by. We erected a tent and lived like gypsies. 
We had a lovely time. 

In Russia our battle squadron did a great 
deal of bomb throv^ing. Our occupation 
consisted of annoying the Russians. We 
dropped our eggs on their finest railway es- 
tablishments. One day our v^hole squadron 
went out to bomb a very important railway 
station. The place was called Manjewicze 
and was situated about twenty miles behind 
the Front. That was not very far. The Rus- 
sians had planned an attack and the station 
was absolutely crammed with colossal 
trains. Trains stood close to one another. 
Miles of rails were covered with them. One 
could easily see that from above. There 
was an object for bombing that was worth 
while. 

One can become enthusiastic over any- 
thing. For a time I was delighted with bomb 
throwing. It gave me a tremendous pleas- 
ure to bomb those fellows from above. Fre- 
quently I took part in two expeditions on a 
single day. 

99 



THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 

On the day mentioned our object was 
Manjewicze. Everything was ready. The 
aeroplanes were ready to start. Every pilot 
tried his motor, for it is a painful thing to 
be forced to land against one's will on the 
wrong side of the Front line, especially in 
Russia. The Russians hated the flyers. If 
they caught a flying man they would cer- 
tainly kill him. That is the only risk one 
ran in Russia for the Russians had no avi- 
ators, or practically none. If a Russian flying 
man turned up he was sure to have bad luck 
and would be shot down. The anti-aircraft 
guns used by Russia were sometimes quite 
good, but they were too few in number. 
Compared with flying in the West, flying in 
the East is absolutely a holiday. 

The aeroplanes rolled heavily to the start- 
ing point. They carried bombs to the very 
limit of their capacity. Sometimes I dragged 
three hundred pounds of bombs with a nor- 
mal C-machine.* Besides, I had with me a 
very heavy observer who apparently had 

*The German C-type machines are the two-seater reconnaisance 
types. The D-type are the single-seater fighters or "chaser" ma- 
chines. The G-type are the big threeseater bombers. 

100 



THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 

not suffered in any way from the food scarc- 
ity.* I had also with me a couple of machine 
guns. I was never able to make proper use 
of them in Russia. It is a pity that my col- 
lection of trophies contains not a single 
Russian. 

Flying with a heavy machine which is 
carrying a great dead weight is no fun, espe- 
cially during the mid-day summer heat in 
Russia. The barges sway in a very disa- 
greeable manner. Of course, heavily laden 
though they are, they do not fall down. The 
150 h. p. motors prevent it.** At the same 
time it is no pleasant sensation to carry such 
a large quantity of explosives and benzine. 

At last we get into a quiet atmosphere. 
Now comes the enjoyment of bombing. It is 
splendid to be able to fly in a straight line 

*It is interesting to find a German joking about food scarcity 
in 1916, exactly as people in England joke about it in 1918. One 
is able thus to form some idea of the comparative states of the 
two countries, and to judge how Germany would have fared if the 
British blockage had been rigidly enforced at the beginning of 
the war. 

**It was ISO horsepower in 1916. By the beginning of 1918 all 
modern German C-type machines had 260 h.p., and by April, 1918, 
German biplanes with 500 h.p. in one engine were beginning to 
appear. In consequence the extreme height (or "ceiling") of a 
C-type machine had risen from 12,000 feet to 20,000 feet. 

lOI 



THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 

and to have a definite object and definite 
orders. After having thrown one's bombs 
one has the feeling that he has achieved 
something, while frequently, after searching 
for an enemy to give battle to, one comes 
home with a sense of failure at not having 
brought a hostile machine to the ground. 
Then a man is apt to say to himself, "You 
have acted stupidly." 

It gave me a good deal of pleasure to 
throw bombs. After a while my observer 
learned how to fly perpendicularly over the 
objects to be bombed and to make use of the 
right moment for laying his egg with the 
assistance of his aiming telescope. 

The run to Manjewicze is very pleasant 
and I have made it repeatedly. We passed 
over gigantic forests which were probably 
inhabited by elks and lynxes. But the vil- 
lages looked miserable. The only substan- 
tial village in the whole neighborhood was 
Manjewicze. It was surrounded by innu- 
merable tents, and countless barracks had 
been run up near the railway station. We 
could not make out the Red Cross. 

102 



THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 

^ Another flying squadron had visited the 
place before us. That could be told by the 
smoking houses and barracks. They had not 
done badly. The exit of the station had obvi- 
ously been blocked by a lucky hit. The 
engine was still steaming. The engine driver 
had probably dived into a shelter. On the 
other side of the station an engine was just 
coming out. Of course I felt tempted to 
hit it. We flew towards the engine and 
dropped a bomb a few hundred yards 
in front of it. We had the desired result. 
The engine stopped. We turned and con- 
tinued throwing bomb after bomb on the 
station, carefully taking aim through our 
aiming telescope. We had plenty of time 
for nobody interfered with us. It is true 
that an enemy aerodrome was in the neigh- 
borhood but there was no trace of hostile 
pilots. A few anti-aircraft guns were busy, 
but they shot not in our direction but in an- 
other one. We reserved a bomb hoping to 
make particularly good use of it on our way 
home. 

Suddenly we noticed an enemy flying ma- 

103 



THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 

chine starting from its hangar. The ques- 
tion was whether it would attack us. I did 
not beHeve in an attack. It was more likely 
that the flying man was seeking security in 
the air, for when bombing machines are 
about, the air is the safest place. 

We went home by roundabout ways and 
looked for camps. It was particularly amus- 
ing to pepper the gentlemen down below 
with machine guns. Half savage tribes from 
Asia are even more startled when fired at 
from above than are cultured Englishmen. 
It is particularly interesting to shoot at hos- 
tile cavalry. An aerial attack upsets them 
completely. Suddenly the lot of them rush 
away in all directions of the compass. I 
should not like to be the Commander of a 
Squadron of Cossacks which has been fired 
at with machine guns from aeroplanes.* 

•Attacks on troops on roads by low-flying aeroplanes were not 
regularly organized acts of war in those days, though such attacks 
had been made by R. N. A. S. pilots in Belgium in 1914. It is 
curious that despite the observed effects of the R. N. A. S. attacks, 
and the experiences of such men as von Richthofen, neither the 
British nor the German aeronautical authorities ever took the 
trouble to devote attention to this new method of war. The racial 
similarity of the two belligerents is marked in this as in other 
matters. 

104 



THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 

By and by we could recognize the German 
lines. We had to dispose of our last bomb 
and we resolved to make a present of it to 
a Russian observation balloon, to the only 
observation balloon they possessed. We 
could quite comfortably descend to within 
a few hundred yards of the ground in order 
to attack it. At first the Russians began to 
haul it in very rapidly. When the bomb had 
been dropped the hauling stopped. I did not 
believe that I had hit it. I rather imagined 
that the Russians had left their chief in the 
air and had run away. At last we reached 
our front and our trenches and were sur- 
prised to find when we got home that we had 
been shot at from below. At least one of the 
planes had a hole in it. 

Another time and in the same neighbor- 
hood we were ordered to meet an attack of 
the Russians who intended to cross the river 
Stokhod. We came to the danger spot laden 
with bombs and carrying a large number of 
cartridges for our machine guns. On arrival 
at the Stokhod, we were surprised to see 
that hostile cavalry was already crossing. 

105 



THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 

They were passing over a single bridge. Im- 
mediately it was clear to us that one might 
do a tremendous lot of harm to the enemy 
by hitting the bridge. 

Dense masses of men were crossing. We 
went as low as possible and could clearly see 
the hostile cavalry crossing by way of the 
bridge with great rapidity. The first 
bomb fell near the bridge. The second 
and third followed immediately. They 
created a tremendous disorder. The bridge 
had not been hit. Nevertheless traffic 
across it had completely ceased. Men 
and animals were rushing away in all 
directions. We had thrown only three 
bombs but the success had been ex- 
cellent. Besides, a whole squadron of aero- 
planes was following us. Lastly, we could 
do other things. My observer fired ener- 
getically into the crowd down below with 
his machine gun and we enjoyed it tremend- 
ously. Of course, I cannot say what real 
success we had. The Russians have not 
told us. Still I imagined that I alone had 
caused the Russian attack to fail. Perhaps 

io6 



THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 

the official account of the Russian War 
Office will give me details after the war. 

At Last! 

'T* HE August sun was almost unbearably 
'■' hot on the sandy flying ground at Kovel. 
While we were chatting among ourselves 
one of my comrades said: "To-day the great 
Boelcke arrives on a visit to us, or rather 
to his brother!" In the evening the great 
man came to hand. He was vastly admired 
by all and he told us many interesting things 
about his journe}^ to Turkey. He was just 
returning from Turkey and was on the way 
to Headquarters. He imagined that he 
would go to the Somme to continue his 
work. He was to organize a fighting squad- 
ron. He was empowered to select from the 
flying corps those men who seemed to him 
particularly qualified for his purpose. 

I did not dare to ask him to be taken on. 
I did not feel bored by the fighting in Russia. 
On the contrary, we made extensive and in- 
teresting flights. We bombed the Russians 
at their stations. Still, the idea of fighting 

107 



THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 

again on the Western Front attracted me. 
There is nothing finer for a young cavalry 
officer than the chase of the air. 

The next morning Boelcke was to leave 
us. Quite early somebody knocked at my 
door and before me stood the great man with 
the Ordre pour le Merite. I knew him, as I 
have previously mentioned, but still I had 
never imagined that he came to look me up 
in order to ask me to become his pupil. I 
almost fell upon his neck when he inquired 
whether I cared to go with him to the 
Somme. 

Three days later I sat in the railway 
train and traveled through the whole of 
Germany straight away to the new field of 
ni}^ activity. At last my greatest wish was 
fulfilled. From now onwards began the 
finest time of my life. 

At that time I did not dare to hope that 
I should be as successful as I have been. 
When I left my quarters in the East a good 
friend of mine called out after me: "See 
that you do not come back without the Ordre 
pour le Merite." 

1 08 



VIII 

My First English Victim, 
{17th September, 1915)* 

WE were all at the Butts trying our ma- 
chine guns. On the previous day we 
had received our new aeroplanes and the 
next morning Boelcke was to fly with us. 
We were all beginners. None of us had had 
a success so far. Consequently everything 
that Boelcke told us was to us gospel truth. 
Every day, during the last few days, he had, 
as he said, shot one or two Englishmen for 
breakfast. 

The next morning, the seventeenth of 
September, was a gloriously fine day. It 
was therefore only to be expected that the 
English would be very active. Before we 

*This locates almost exactly the date of the formation of the 
first Boelcke Circus. 

109 



THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 

started Boelcke repeated to us his instruc- 
tions and for the first time we flew as a 
squadron commanded by the great man 
whom we followed blindly. 

We had just arrived at the Front when 
we recognized a hostile flying squadron 
that was proceeding in the direction of Cam- 
brai. Boelcke was of course the first to see 
it, for he saw a great deal more than ordi- 
nary mortals. Soon we understood the posi- 
tion and everyone of us strove to follow 
Boelcke closely. It was clear to all of us 
that we should pass our first examination 
under the eyes of our beloved leader. 

Slowly we approached the hostile squad- 
ron. It could not escape us. We had in- 
tercepted it, for we were between the Front 
and our opponents. If they wished to go 
back they had to pass us. We counted the 
hostile machines. They were seven in num- 
ber. We were only five. All the English- 
men flew large bomb-carrying two-seaters. 
In a few seconds the dance would begin. 

Boelcke had come very near the first Eng- 
lish machine but he did not yet shoot. I 

no 



THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 

followed. Close to me were my comrades. 
The Englishman nearest to me was travel- 
ing in a large boat painted with dark colors. 
I did not reflect very long but took my aim 
and shot. He also fired and so did I, and 
both of us missed our aim. A struggle began 
and the great point for me was to get to 
the rear of the fellow because I could only 
shoot forward with my gun. He was differ- 
ently placed for his machine gun was mov- 
able. It could fire in all directions. 

Apparently he was no beginner, for he 
knew exactly that his last hour had arrived 
at the moment when I got at the back of 
him. At that time I had not yet the con- 
viction "He must fall!" which I have now 
on such occasions, but on the contrary, I was 
curious to see whether he would fall. There 
is a great difference between the two feel- 
ings. When one has shot down one's first, 
second or third opponent, then one begins to 
find out how the trick is done. 

My Englishman twisted and turned, going 
criss-cross. I did not think for a moment 
that the hostile squadron contained other 

III 



THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 

Englishmen who conceivably might come to 
the aid of their comrade. I was animated by 
a single thought : "The man in front of me 
must come down, whatever happens." At 
last a favorable moment arrived. My op- 
ponent had apparently lost sight of me. In- 
stead of twisting and turning he flew 
straight along. In a fraction of a second I 
was at his back with my excellent machine. 
I give a short series of shots with my ma- 
chine gun. I had gone so close that I was 
afraid I might dash into the Englishman. 
Suddenly, I nearly yelled with joy for the 
propeller of the enemy machine had stopped 
turning. I had shot his engine to pieces ; the 
enemy was compelled to land, for it was im- 
possible for him to reach his own lines. The 
English machine was curiously swinging to 
and fro. Probably something had happened 
to the pilot. The observer was no longer 
visible. His machine gun was apparently 
deserted. Obviously I had hit the observer 
and he had fallen from his seat. 

The Englishman landed close to the flying 
ground of one of our squadrons. I was so 

112 



THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 

excited that I landed also and my eagerness 
was so great that I nearly smashed up my 
machine. The English flying machine and 
my own stood close together. I rushed to 
the English machine and saw that a lot of 
soldiers were running towards my enemy. 
When I arrived I discovered that my as- 
sumption had been correct. I had shot the 
engine to pieces and both the pilot and ob- 
server were severely wounded. The ob- 
server died at once and the pilot while being 
transported to the nearest dressing station. 
I honored the fallen enemy by placing a 
stone on his beautiful grave. 

When I came home Boelcke and my other 
comrades were already at breakfast. They 
were surprised that I had not turned up. 
I reported proudly that I had shot down an 
Englishman. All were full of joy for I was 
not the only victor. As usual, Boelcke had 
shot down an opponent for breakfast and 
everyone of the other men also had downed 
an enemy for the first time. 

I would mention that since that time no 
English squadron ventured as far as Cam- 

113 



THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 

brai as long as Boelcke's squadron was 
there.* 

The Battle of the Somme 

TOURING my whole life I have not found 
^^ a happier hunting ground than in the 
course of the Somme Battle. In the morn- 
ing, as soon as I had got up, the first English- 
men arrived, and the last did not disap- 
pear until long after sunset. Boelcke once 
said that this was the El Dorado of the flying 
men. 

There was a time when, within two 
months, Boelcke's bag of machines increased 
from twenty to forty. We beginners had 
not at that time the experience of our 
master and we were quite satisfied when we 
did not get a hiding. It was an exciting ; 
period. Every time we went up we had a 
fight. Frequently we fought really big 
battles in the air. There were sometimes 

*Cambrai at that time was a long way behind the front, and 
Bapaume was a more important mark for the British squadrons. 
So it may not have been worth while for squadrons to go so far 
afield as Cambrai. Single machines on long reconnaisance visited 
Cambrai regularly. 

114 



THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 

from forty to sixty English machines, but^ 
unfortunately the Germans were often in 
the minority. With them quality was more 
important than quantity. 

Still the Englishman is a smart fellow'. 
That we must allow. Sometimes the Eng- 
lish came down to a very low altitude and 
visited Boelcke in his quarters, upon which 
they threw their bombs. They absolutely 
challenged us to battle and never refused 
fighting. 

We had a delightful time with our chasing 
squadron. The spirit of our leader animated 
all his pupils. We trusted him blindly. 
There was no possibility that one of us 
would be left behind. Such a thought was 
incomprehensible to us. Animated by that 
spirit we gaily diminished the number of our 
enemies. 

On the day when Boelcke fell the squadron 
had brought down forty opponents. By now 
the number has been increased by more than 
a hundred. Boelcke's spirit lives still among 
his capable successors. 



IIS 



THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 

Boelckc's Death. {28th October, ipi6) 

/^^NE day we were flying, once more 
^-^ guided by Boelcke against the enemy. 
We always had a wonderful feeling of se- 
curity when he was with us. After all he 
was the one and only. The weather was 
very gusty and there were many clouds. 
There were no aeroplanes about except 
fighting ones. 

From a long distance we saw two im- 
pertinent Englishmen in the air who actu- 
ally seemed to enjoy the terrible weather. 
We were six and they were two. If they 
had been twenty and if Boelcke had given 
us the signal to attack we should not have 
been at all surprised. 

The struggle began in the usual way. 
Boelcke tackled the one and I the other. I 
had to let go because one of the German 
machines got in my way. I looked around 
and noticed Boelcke settling his victim about 
two hundred yards away from me. 

It was the usual thing. Boelcke would 
shoot down his opponent and I had to look 

116 



THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 

on. Close to Boelcke flew a good friend of 
his. It was an interesting struggle. Both 
men were shooting. It was probable that 
the Englishman would fall at any moment. 
Suddenly I noticed an unnatural movement 
of the two German flying machines. Imme- 
diately I thought: Collision. I had not yet 
seen a collision in the air. I had imagined 
that it would look quite different. In reality, 
what happened was not a collision. The 
two machines merely touched one another. 
However, if two machines go at the tre- 
mendous pace of flying machines, the slight^ 
est contact has the effect of a violent con- 
cussion. 

Boelcke drew away from his victim and 
descended in large curves. He did not seem 
to be falling, but when I saw him descending 
below me I noticed that part of his planes 
had broken off. I could not see what 
happened afterwards, but in the clouds 
he lost an entire plane. Now his ma- 
chine was no longer steerable. It fell 
accompanied all the time by Boelcke's 
faithful friend. 

117 



THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 

When we reached home we found the re- 
port "Boelcke is dead!" had already arrived. 
We could scarcely realize it. 

The greatest pain was, of course, felt by 
the man who had the misfortune to be in- 
volved in the accident. 

It is a strange thing that everybody who 
met Boelcke imagined that he alone was his 
true friend. I have made the acquaintance 
of about forty men, each of whom imagined 
that he alone was Boelcke's intimate. Each 
imagined that he had the monopoly of 
Boelcke's affections. Men whose names 
were unknown to Boelcke believed that he 
was particularly fond of them. This is a 
curious phenomenom which I have never 
noticed in anyone else. Boelcke had not a 
personal enemy. He was equally polite to 
everybody, making no differences. 

The only one who was perhaps more in- 
timate with him than the others was the 
very man who had the misfortune to be in 
the accident which caused his death. 

Nothing happens without God's will. That 
is the only consolation which any of us 

ii8 



THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 

can put to our souls during this war. 

My Eighth Victim 
TN Boelcke's time eight was quite a re- 
* spectable number. Those who hear 
nowadays of the colossal bags made by cer- 
tain aviators must feel convinced that it has 
become easier to shoot down a machine. I 
can assure those who hold that opinion that 
the flying business is becoming more diffi- 
cult from month to month and even from 
week to week. Of course, with the increas- 
ing number of aeroplanes one gains in- 
creased opportunities for shooting down 
one's enemies, but at the same time, the 
possibility of being shot down one's self in- 
creases. The armament of our enemies is 
steadily improving and their number is in- 
creasing.* When Immelmann shot down his 
first victim he had the good fortune to find 
an opponent who carried not even a machine 
gun. Such little innocents one finds nowa- 
days only at the training ground for begin- 
ners. 

*This testimony to the improvement in the aerial equipment of 
the British Army is well worthy of note. 

119 



THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 

On the ninth of November, 1916, I flew 
towards the enemy with my Httle comrade 
Immelmann,* who then was eighteen years 
old. We both were in Boelcke's squadron 
of chasing aeroplanes. We had previously 
met one another and had got on very well. 
Comradeship is a most important thing. We 
went to work. I had already bagged seven 
enemies and Immelmann five. At that time 
this was quite a lot. 

Soon after our arrival at the front we 
saw a squadron of bombing aeroplanes. 
They were coming along with impertinent 
assurance. They arrived in enormous num- 
bers as was usual during the Somme Battle. 
I think there were about forty or fifty ma- 
chines approaching. I cannot give the exact 
number. They had selected an object for 
their bombs not far from our aerodrome. I 
reached them when they had almost attained 
their objective. I approached the last ma- 
chine. My first few shots incapacitated the 
hostile machine gunner. Possibly they had 

*This is evidently a junior Immelmann of Boelcke's squadron, 
and not the famous Immelmann, who was already dead before the 
Boelcke squadron came into existence. 

120 



THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 

tickled the pilot, too. At any rate he re- 
solved to land with his bombs. I fired a 
few more shots to accelerate his progress 
downwards. He fell close to our flying 
ground at Lagnicourt. 

While I was fighting my opponent, Im- 
melmann had tackled another Englishman 
and had brought him down in the same lo- 
cality. Both of us flew quickly home in 
order to have a look at the machines we 
had downed. We jumped into a motor car, 
drove in the direction where our victims 
lay and had to run along a distance through 
the fields. It was very hot, therefore I un- 
buttoned all my garments even the collar 
and the shirt. I took oE my jacket, left my 
cap in the car but took with me a big stick. 
My boots were miry up to the knees. I 
looked like a tramp. I arrived in the vicinity 
of my victim. In the meantime, a lot of 
people had of course gathered around. 

At one spot there was a group of officers. 
I approached them, greeted them, and asked 
the first one whom I met whether he could 
tell me anything about the aspect of the 

121 



THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 

aerial battle. It is always interesting to find 
out how a fight in the air looks to the people 
down below. I was told that the English 
machines had thrown bombs and that the 
aeroplane that had come down was still 
carrying its bombs. 

The officer who gave me this information 
took my arm, went with me to the other 
officers, asked my name and introduced me 
to them. I did not like it, for my attire was 
rather disarranged. On the other hand, all 
the officers looked as spic and span as on 
parade. I was introduced to a personage 
who impressed me rather strangely. I no- 
ticed a General's trousers, an Order at the 
neck, an unusually youthful face and unde- 
finable epaulettes. In short, the personage 
seemed extraordinary to me. During our 
conversation I buttoned my trousers and 
collar and adopted a somewhat military 
attitude. 

I had no idea who the officer was. I took 
my leave and went home again. In the eve- 
ning the telephone rang and I was told that 
the undefinable somebody with whom I had 

122 



THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 

been talking had been His Royal Highness, 
the Grand-Duke of Saxe-Coburg Gotha. 

I was ordered to go to him. It was known 
that the English had intended to throw 
bombs on his headquarters. Apparently I 
had helped to keep the aggressors away from 
him. Therefore I was given the Saxe- 
Coburg Gotha medal for bravery. 

I always enjoy this adventure when I look 
at the medal. 

Major Hawker 

T WAS extremely proud when, one fine 
day, I was informed that the airman 
whom I had brought down on the twenty- 
third of November, 1916, was the English 
Immelmann. 

In view of the character of our fight it was 
clear to me that I had been tackling a flying 
champion. 

One day I was blithely flying to give chase 
when I noticed three Englishmen who also 
had apparently gone a-hunting. I noticed 
that they were ogling me and as I felt much 
inclination to have a fight I did not want to 
disappoint them. 

123 



THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 



I was flying at a lower altitude. Conse- 
quently I had to wait until one of my English 
friends tried to drop on me. After a short ' 
while on the three came sailing along and 
attempted to tackle me in the rear. After 
firing five shots he had to stop for I had 
swerved in a sharp curve. 

The Englishman tried to catch me up in 
the rear while I tried to get behind him. So 
we circled round and round like madmen 
after one another at an altitude of about 
10,000 feet. 

First we circled twenty times to the left, 
and then thirty times to the right. Each 
tried to get behind and above the other. 

Soon I discovered that I was not meeting 
a beginner. He had not the slightest inten- 
tion of breaking ofif the fight. He was trav- | 
eling in a machine which turned beautifully.* 
However, my own was better at rising than 
his, and I succeeded at last in getting above 
and beyond my English waltzing partner. 

When we had got down to about 6,000 

•Major Hawker was flying a de Havilland II with a 100 h.p. 
Monosoupape Gnome engine, a species of "box-kite" single-seater 
biplane, albeit very fast and handy. 

124 



THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 



feet without having achieved anything in 
particular, my opponent ought to have dis- 
covered that it was time for him to take his 
leave. The wind was favorable to me for 
it drove us more and more towards the Ger- 
man position. At last we were above Ba- 
paume, about half a mile behind the German 
front. The impertinent fellow was full of 
cheek and when we had got down to about 
3,000 feet he merrily waved to me as if he 
would say, "Well, how do you do?" 

The circles which we made around one 
another were so narrow that their diameter 
was probably no more than 250 or 300 feet. 
I had time to take a good look at my oppo- 
nent. I looked down into his carriage and 
could see every movement of his head. If he 
had not had his cap on I would have noticed 
what kind of a face he was making. 

My Englishman was a good sportsman, 
but by and by the thing became a little too 
hot for him. He had to decide whether he 
would land on German ground or whether 
he would fly back to the English lines. Of 
course he tried the latter, after having en- 

125 



THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 

deavored in vain to escape me by loopings 
and such like tricks. At that time his first 
bullets were flying around me, for hitherto 
neither of us had been able to do any 
shooting. 

When he had come down to about three 
hundred feet he tried to escape by flying in 
a zig-zag course during which, as is well 
known, it is difficult for an observer to shoot. 
That was my most favorable moment. I fol- 
lowed him at an altitude of from two hun- 
dred and fifty feet to one hundred and fifty ; 
feet, firing all the time. The Englishman 
could not help falling. But the jamming of 
my gun nearly robbed me of my success. 

My opponent fell, shot through the head, 
one hundred and fifty feet behind our line. 
His machine gun was dug out of the ground 
and it ornaments the entrance of my 
dwelling.* 

*One gathers that this account is substantially correct. The 
other two British machines who were with Major Hawker became 
involved with von Richthofen's four followers and with five other 
German chasers which came into the fight from a higher altitude. 
These two, after a busy time, fought their way out, while Major 
Hawker was fighting von Richthofen. The only flaw in the story 
is that in fact one of the upper German machines dived onto 
Major Hawker, who, apparently, in avoiding it, came into action 
with von Richthofen. 

126 



IX 
/ Get the Ordre Pour le Merite 

T had brought down my sixteenth victim, 
-^ and I had come to the head of the Hst 
of all the flying chasers. I had obtained the 
aim which I had set myself. In the previous 
year my friend Lynker, with whom I was 
training, had asked me: ''What is your 
object? What will you obtain by flying?" 
I replied, jokingly, "I would like to be the 
first of the chasers. That must be very fine." 
That I should succeed in this I did not be- 
lieve myself. Other people also did not 
expect my success. Boelcke is supposed to 
have said, not to me personally — I have only 
heard the report — when asked: "Which of 
the fellows is likely to become a good 
chaser?" — ''That is the man!" pointing his 
finger in my direction. 

127 



THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 

Boelcke and Immelman were given the 
Ordre pour le Merite when they had brought 
down their eighth aeroplane. I had downed 
twice that number. The question was, what 
would happen to me? I was very curious. 
It was rumored that I was to be given com- 
mand of a chasing squadron. 

One fine day a telegram arrived, which 
stated: "Lieutenant von Richthofen is ap- 
pointed Commander of the Eleventh Chasing 
Squadron." 

I must say I was annoyed. I had learnt 
to work so well with my comrades of 
Boelcke's Squadron and now I had to begin 
all over again working hand in hand with 
different people. It was a beastly nuisance. 
Besides I should have preferred the Ordre 
pour le Merite. 

Two days later, when we were sitting so- 
ciably together, we men of Boelcke's Squad- 
ron, celebrating my departure, a telegram 
from Headquarters arrived. It stated that 
His Majesty had graciously condescended to 
give me the Ordre pour le Merite. Of course 
my joy was tremendous. 

128 



THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 

I had never imagined that it would be so 
delightful to command a chasing squadron. 
Even in my dreams I had not imagined that 
there would ever be a Richthofen's squadron 
of aeroplanes. 

Le Petit Rouge 

IT occurred to me to have my packing case 
painted all over in staring red. The re- 
sult was that everyone got to know my red 
bird. My opponents also seemed to have 
heard of the color transformation. 

During a fight on quite a different sec- 
tion of the Front I had the good fortune to 
shoot into a Vickers' two-seater which 
peacefully photographed the German artil- 
lery position. My friend, the photographer, 
had not the time to defend himself. He had 
to make haste to get down upon firm ground 
for his machine began to give suspicious in- 
dications of fire. When we airmen notice 
that phenomenon in an enemy plane, we say: 
"He stinks !" As it turned out it was really 
so. When the machine was coming to earth 
it burst into flames. 

129 



THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 

I felt some human pity for my opponent 
and had resolved not to cause him to fall 
down but merely to compel him to land. I 
did so particularly because I had the im- 
pression that my opponent was wounded for 
he did not fire a single shot. 

When I had got down to an altitude of 
about fifteen hundred feet engine trouble 
compelled me to land without making any 
curves. The result was very comical. My 
enemy with his burning machine landed 
smoothly while I, his victor, came down next 
to him in the barbed wire of our trenches and 
my machine overturned.* 

The two Englishmen who were not a little 
surprised at my collapse, greeted me like 
sportsmen. As mentioned before, they had 
not fired a shot and they could not under- 
stand why I had landed so clumsily. They 
were the first two Englishmen whom I had 
brought down alive. Consequently, it gave 
me particular pleasure to talk to them. I 
asked them whether they had previously 

*This incident confirms the impression that the small Albatros 
biplanes are difficult to land except in a properly prepared aero- 
drome. 

130 



THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 

seen my machine in the air, and one of them 
replied, *'0h, yes. I know your machine very 
well. We call it 'Le Petit Rouge'." 

English and French Fly- 
ing. {February, ipi^) 

T WAS trying to compete with Boelcke's 
"■• squadron. Every evening we compared 
our bags. However, Boelcke's pupils are 
smart rascals. I cannot get ahead of them. 
The utmost one can do is to draw level with 
them. The Boelcke section has an advan- 
tage over my squadron of one hundred aero- 
planes downed. I must allow them to retain 
it. Everything depends on whether we have 
for opponents those French tricksters or 
those daring rascals, the English. I prefer 
the English. Frequently their daring can 
only be described as stupidity. In their eyes 
it may be pluck and daring. 

The great thing in air fighting is that the 
decisive factor does not lie in trick flying 
but solely in the personal ability and energy 
of the aviator. A flying man may be able 

131 



THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 

to loop and do all the stunts imaginable and 
yet he may not succeed in shooting down a 
single enemy. In my opinion the aggressive 
spirit is everything and that spirit is very 
strong in us Germans. Hence we shall 
always retain the domination of the air.* 

The French have a different character. 
They like to put traps and to attack their 
opponents unawares. That cannot easily be 
done in the air. Only a beginner can be 
caught and one cannot set traps because an 
aeroplane cannot hide itself. The invisible 
aeroplane has not yet been discovered. 
Sometimes, however, the Gaelic blood as- 
serts itself. The Frenchmen will then 
attack. But the French attacking spirit is 
like bottled lemonade. It lacks tenacity. 

The Englishmen, on the other hand, one 
notices that they are of Germanic blood. 
Sportsmen easily take to flying, and English- 
men see in flying nothing but a sport. They 

•Except when faced by pilots in approximately equal numbers 
and equally mounted. It is interesting here to recall the dictum of 
General von Hoppner, the chief of the German Flying Service, who 
said that the English are dangerous opponents and show by their 
fighting spirit that they are of Germanic race. It will be noticed 
that von Richthofen repeats the sentiment later on. 

132 



THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 

take a perfect delight in looping the loop, 
flying on their back, and indulging in other 
stunts for the benefit of our soldiers in the 
trenches. All these tricks may impress 
people who attend a Sports Meeting, but the 
public at the battle-front is not as apprecia- 
tive of these things. It demands higher 
qualifications than trick flying. Therefore, 
the blood of English pilots will have to flow 
in streams. 

/ Am Shot Down. 

(Middle of March, ipiy) 

I HAVE had an experience which might 
perhaps be described as being shot down. 
At the same time, I call shot down only when 
one falls down. To-day I got into trouble 
but I escaped with a whole skin. 

I was flying with the squadron and noticed 
an opponent who also was flying in a squad- 
ron. It happened above the German artillery 
position in the neighborhood of Lens. I had 
to fly quite a distance to get there. It tickles 
ones nerves to fly towards the enemy, espe- 
cially when one can see him from a long 
distance and when several minutes must 

133 



THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 

elapse before one can start fighting. I im- 
agine that at such a moment my face turns 
a little pale, but unfortunately I have never 
had a mirror with me. I like that feeling for 
it is a wonderful nerve stimulant. One 
observes the enemy from afar. One has 
recognized that his squadron is really an 
enemy formation. One counts the number of 
the hostile machines and considers whether 
the conditions are favorable or unfavorable. 
A factor of enormous importance is whether 
the wind forces me away from or towards 
our Front. For instance, I once shot down 
an Englishman. I fired the fatal shot above 
the English position. However, the wind 
was so strong that his machine came down 
close to the German captive balloons. 

We Germans had five machines. Our op- 
ponents were three times as numerous. The 
English flew about like midges. It is not 
easy to disperse a swarm of machines which 
fly together in good order. It is impossible 
for a single machine to do it. It is extremely 
difficult for several aeroplanes, particularly 
if the difference in number is as great as it 

134 



THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 

was in this case. However, one feels such 
a superiority over the enemy that one does 
not doubt of success for a moment. 

The aggressive spirit, the offensive, is the 
chief thing everywhere in war, and the air 
is no exception. However, the enemy had 
the same idea, I noticed that at once. As 
soon as they observed us they turned round 
and attacked us. Now we five had to look 
sharp. If one of them should fall there 
might be a lot of trouble for all of us. We 
went closer together and allowed the foreign 
gentlemen to approach us. 

I watched whether one of the fellows 
would hurriedly take leave of his colleagues. 
There! One of them is stupid enough to 
depart alone. I can reach him and I say to 
myself, "That man is lost." Shouting aloud, 
I am after him. I have come up to him or 
at least am getting very near him. He starts 
shooting prematurely, which shows that he 
is nervous. So I say to myself, "Go on shoot- 
ing. You wont hit me." He shot with a 
kind of ammunition which ignites. So I 
could see his shots passing me. I felt as if 

13s 



THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 

I were sitting in front of a gigantic watering 
pot. The sensation was not pleasant. Still, 
the English usually shoot with their beastly 
stufif , and so we must try and get accustomed 
to it.* One can get accustomed to anything. 
At the moment I think I laughed aloud. But 
soon I got a lesson. When I had approached 
the Englishman quite closely, when I had 
come to a distance of about three hundred 
feet, I got ready for firing, aimed and gave 
a few trial shots. The machine guns were 
in order. The decision would be there before 
long. In my mind's eye I saw my enemy 
dropping. 

My former excitement was gone. In such 
a position one thinks quite calmly and col- 
lectedly and weighs the probabilities of 
hitting and of being hit. Altogether the 
fight itself is the least exciting part of the 
business as a rule. He who gets excited in 

*The reference is to what are called "tracer" bullets. The hind 
end of the bullet contains a phosphorous mixture which leaves 
a trail of smoke and so indicates to the gunner where his bullets 
arc going. If such a bullet penetrates a petrol tank or passes 
through escaping petrol — due to a perforated tank or a cut petrol- 
pipe — it sets the petrol on fire, but the prime reason is to trace the 
course of the shot. The Germans use similar bullets as largely as 
do the Allies. 

136 



THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 

fighting- is sure to make mistakes. He will 
never get his enemy down. Besides calm- 
ness is, after all, a matter of habit. At any 
rate in this case I did not make a mistake. 
I approached my man up to fifty yards. Then 
I fired some well aimed shots and thought 
that I was bound to be successful. That was 
my idea. But suddenly I heard a tremendous 
bang, when I had scarcely fired ten car- 
tridges. Presently again something hit my 
machine. It became clear to me that I had 
been hit or rather my machine. At the same 
time I noticed a fearful benzine stench and 
I observed that the motor was running 
slack. The Englishman noticed it, too, for 
he started shooting with redoubled energy 
while I had to stop it. 

I went right down. Instinctively I 
switched off the engine and indeed it was 
high time to do this. When a pilot's benzine 
tank has been perforated, and when the in- 
fernal liquid is squirting around his legs, the 
danger of fire is very great. In front is an 
explosion engine of more than 150 h. p. which 
is red hot. If a single drop of benzine should 

137 



THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 

fall on it the whole machine would be in 
flames.* 

I left in the air a thin white cloud. I knew 
its meaning from my enemies. Its appear- 
ance is the first sign of a coming explosion. 
I was at an altitude of nine thousand feet 
and had to travel a long distance to get 
down. By the kindness of Providence my 
engine stopped running. I have no idea with 
what rapidity I went downward. At any 
rate the speed was so great that I could not 
put my head out of the machine without 
being pressed back by the rush of air. 

Soon I lost sight of my enemy. I had 
only time to see what my four comrades 
were doing while I was dropping to the 
ground. They were still fighting. Their 
machine-guns and those of their opponents 
could be heard. Suddenly I notice a rocket. 
Is it a signal of the enemy? No, it cannot 
be. The light is too great for a rocket. Evi- 

*This is a mistaken idea, common to many pilots who are not 
motor engineers. Fire in such cases is caused by petrol or petrol 
vapor being set alight by a spark from the magneto, which because 
the air-screw is still revolving continues to generate sparks in- 
ternally even when switched off. A mere red-hot pipe in an engine 
would not cause petrol fire. 



THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 

dently a machine is on fire. What machine? 
The burning machine looks exactly as if it 
were one of our own. No! Praise the Lord, 
it is one of the enemy's ! Who can have shot 
him down? Immediately afterwards a sec- 
ond machine drops out and falls perpendicu- 
larly to the ground, turning, turning, turn- 
ing exactly as I did, but suddenly it recovers 
its balance. It flies straight towards me. 
It also is an Albatros. No doubt it had the 
same experience as I had. 

I had fallen to an altitude of perhaps one 
thousand feet and had to look out for a 
landing. Now such a sudden landing usu- 
ally leads to breakages and as these are occa- 
sionally serious it was time to look out. I 
found a meadow. It was not very large but 
it just sufficed if I used due caution. Be- 
sides it was favorably situated on the high 
road near Henin-Lietard. There I meant to 
land. 

Everything went as desired and my first 
thought was, "What has become of the other 
fellow." He landed a few kilometers from 
the spot where I had come to the ground. 

139 



THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 

I had ample time to inspect the damage. 
My machine had been hit a number of times. 
The shot which caused me to give up the 
fight had gone through both benzine tanks. I 
had not a drop of benzine left and the engine 
itself had also been damaged by shots. It 
was a pity for it had worked so well. 

I let my legs dangle out of the machine 
and probably made a very silly face. In a 
moment I was surrounded by a large crowd 
of soldiers. Then came an officer. He was 
quite out of breath. He was terribly ex- 
cited ! No doubt something fearful had hap- 
pened to him. He rushed towards me, 
gasped for air and asked: "I hope that 
nothing has happened to you. I have fol- 
lowed the whole affair and am terribly ex- 
cited! Good Lord, it looked awful!" I as- 
sured him that I felt quite well, jumped down 
from the side of my machine and introduced 
myself to him. Of course he did not under- 
stand a particle of my name. However, he 
invited me to go in his motor car to Henin- 
Lietard where he was quartered. He was 
an Engineer Officer. 

140 



THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 

We were sitting in the motor and were 
commencing our ride. My host was still 
extraordinarily excited. Suddenly he jumped 
up and asked: "Good Lord, but where is your 
chauffeur?" At first I did not quite under- 
stand what he meant. Probably I looked 
puzzled. Then it dawned upon me that he 
thought that I was the observer of a two- 
seater and that he asked after the fate of 
my pilot. I pulled myself together and said 
in the dryest tones: "I always drive my- 
self." Of course the word "drive" is abso- 
lutely taboo among the flying men. 

An aviator does not drive, he flies. In the 
eyes of the kind gentleman I had obviously 
lost caste when he discovered that I "drove" 
my own aeroplane. The conversation began 
to slacken. 

We arrived in his quarters. I was still 
dressed in my dirty and oily leather jacket 
and had round my neck a thick wrap. On 
our journey he had of course asked me a 
tremendous number of questions. Alto- 
gether he was far more excited than I was. 

When we got to his diggings he forced 

141 



THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 

me to lie down on the sofa, or at least he 
tried to force me because, he argued, I was 
bound to be terribly done up through my 
fight. I assured him that this was not my 
first aerial battle but he did not, apparently, 
give me much credence. Probably I did not 
look very martial. 

After we had been talking for some time 
he asked me of course the celebrated ques- 
tion: ''Have you ever brought down a ma- 
chine?" As I said before he had probably 
not understood my name. So I answered 
nonchalantly: "Oh, yes! I have done so 
now and then." He replied: "Indeed! Per- 
haps you have shot down two?" I answered: 
"No. Not two but twenty-four." He 
smiled, repeated his question and gave me 
to understand that, when he was speaking 
about shooting down an aeroplane, he meant 
not shooting at an aeroplane but shooting 
into an aeroplane in such a manner that it 
would fall to the ground and remain there. 
I immediately assured him that I entirely 
shared his conception of the meaning of the 
words "shooting down." 

142 



THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 

Now I had completely lost caste with him. 
He was convinced that I was a fearful liar. 
He left me sitting where I was and told me 
that a meal would be served in an hour. If 
I liked I could join in. I accepted his invita- 
tion and slept soundly for an hour. Then 
we went to the Officers' Club. Arrived at 
the club I was glad to find that I was wear- 
ing the Ordre pour le Merite. 

Unfortunately I had no uniform jacket un- 
derneath my greasy leather coat but only a 
waistcoat. I apologized for being so badly 
dressed. Suddenly my good chief discov- 
ered on me the Ordre pour le Merite. He 
was speechless with surprise and assured me 
that he did not know my name. I gave him 
my name once more. Now it seemed to dawn 
upon him that he had heard my name before. 
He feasted me with oysters and champagne 
and I did gloriously until at last my orderly 
arrived and fetched me with my car. I 
learned from him that comrade Lubbert had 
once more justified his nickname. He was 
generally called "The bullet-catcher" for his 
machine suffered badly in every fight. Once 

143 



THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 

it was hit sixty-four times. Yet he had not 
been wounded. This time he had received 
a glancing shot on the chest and he was by 
this time in hospital. I flew his machine to 
port. Unfortunately this excellent officer, 
who promised to become another Boelcke, 
died a few weeks later — a hero's death for 
the Fatherland. 

In the evening I could assure my kind host 
of Henin-Lietard that I had increased my 
"bag" to twenty-five. 



144 



X 



A Flying-Man's Adventure, 
{End of March, 1917) 

TTHE name "Siegfried position" is prob- 
^ ably known to every young man in Ger- 
many. During the time when we withdrew 
towards the Siegfried line the activity in 
the air was of course very great. We al- 
lowed our enemies to occupy the territory 
which we had evacuated but we did not 
allow them to occupy the air as well. The 
chaser squadron which Boelcke had trained 
looked after the English flying men. The 
English had hitherto fought a war of posi- 
tion in the air and they ventured to abandon 
it for a war of movement only with the ut- 
most caution. 

That was the time when Prince Frederick 
Charles gave his life for the Fatherland. 

In the course of a hunting expedition of 

145 



THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 

the Boelcke Chaser Squadron, Lieutenant 
Voss* had defeated an Englishman in an 
aerial duel. He was forced to go down to 
the ground and landed in neutral territory 
between the lines, in No Man's Land. In 
this particular case we had abandoned a 
stretch of territory but the enemy had not 
yet occupied it. Only English and German 
patrols were about in the unoccupied zone. 
The English flying machine was standing 
between the two lines. Our good English- 
man probably believed that the ground was 
already in English possession and he was 
justified in thinking so. 

Lieutenant Voss was of a different opin- 
ion. Without a moment's hesitation he 
landed close to his victim. With great rap- 
idity he transferred the Englishman's ma- 

*Voss was afterwards shot in a fight by the late Lieut. Rhys- 
Davids, D. C. O., M. C. In this fight, which is said to have been 
one of the most gallant actions in the war, Voss was flying a 
Fokker triplane with a French le Rhone engine, taken out of a 
captured machine. He was attacked by six British S. E.'s, all 
faster than he was. His solitary companion, on an Albatros, was 
shot down at the first onset, but Voss, instead of getting away, 
as he could have done, stayed and fought the crowd. His manoeuv- 
cring and shooting are said to have been wonderful. Every British 
machine was hit, cut none was brought down, and Voss himselt 
finally fell to a direct attack by Rhys-Davids. 

146 



THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 

chine-guns and other useful things to his 
own aeroplane, took a match and in a few 
minutes the English machine stood in flames. 
Then he waved smilingly from his victorious 
aeroplane to the English who were rushing 
along from all sides and was off. 

My First Double Event 

nPHE second of April, 1917, was a very 
* warm day for my Squadron. From my 
quarters I could clearly hear the drum-fire 
of the guns which was again particularly 
violent. 

I was still in bed when my orderly rushed 
into the room and exclaimed: "Sir, the 
English are here !" Sleepy as I was, I looked 
out of the window and, really, there were 
my dear friends circling over the flying 
ground. I jumped out of my bed and into 
my clothes in a jiffy. My Red Bird had been 
pulled out and was ready for starting. My 
mechanics knew that I should probably not 
allow such a favorable moment to go by un- 
utilized. Everything was ready. I snatched 
up my furs and then went off. 

147 



THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 

I was the last to start. My comrades were 
much nearer to the enemy. I feared that my 
prey would escape me, that I should have 
to look on from a distance while the others 
were fighting. Suddenly one of the imperti- 
nent fellows tried to drop down upon me. 
I allowed him to come near and then we 
started a merry quadrille. Sometimes my 
opponent flew on his back and sometimes he 
did other tricks. He had a double-seated 
chaser. I was his master and very soon I 
recognized that he could not escape me. 

During an interval in the fighting I con- 
vinced myself that we were alone. It fol- 
lowed that the victory would accrue to him 
who was calmest, who shot best and who 
had the clearest brain in a moment of dan- 
ger. After a short time I got him beneath 
me without seriously hurting him with my 
gun. We were at least two kilometers from 
the front. I thought he intended to land but 
there I had made a mistake. Suddenly, 
when he was only a few yards above the 
ground, he once more went off on a straight 
course. He tried to escape me. That was 

148 



THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 



too bad. I attacked him again and I went 
so low that I feared I should touch the roofs 
of the houses of the village beneath me. 
The Englishman defended himself up to the 
last moment. At the very end I felt that 
my engine had been hit. Still I did not let 
go. He had to fall. He rushed at full speed 
right into a block of houses. 

There was little left to be done. This was 
once more a case of splendid daring. He de- 
fended himself to the last. However, in my 
opinion he showed more foolhardiness than 
courage. This was one of the cases where 
one must differentiate between energy and 
idiocy. He had to come down in any case 
but he paid for his stupidity with his life. 

I was delighted with the performance of 
my red machine during its morning work 
and returned to our quarters. My comrades 
were still in the air and they were very 
surprised, when, as we met at breakfast, 
I told them that I had scored my thirty- 
second machine. 

A very young Lieutenant had "bagged" 
his first aeroplane. We were all very merry 

149 



THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 

and prepared everything for further battles. 

I then went and groomed myself. I had 
not had time to do it previously. I was 
visited by a dear friend, Lieutenant Voss of 
Boelcke's Squadron. We chatted. Voss had 
downed on the previous day his twenty-third 
machine. He was next to me on the list and 
is at present my most redoubtable com- 
petitor. 

When he started to fly home I offered to 
accompany him part of the way. We went 
on a roundabout way over the Fronts. The 
weather had turned so bad that we could 
not hope to find any more game. 

Beneath us there were dense clouds. Voss 
did not know the country and he began to 
feel uncomfortable. When we passed above 
Arras I met my brother who also is in my 
squadron and who had lost his way. He 
joined us. Of course he recognized me at 
once by the color of my machine. 

Suddenly we saw a squadron approaching 
from the other side. Immediately the 
thought occurred to me: "Now comes num- 
ber thirty-three." Although there were nine 

150 



THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 

Englishmen and although they were on their 
own territory they preferred to avoid battle. 
I thought that perhaps it would be better 
for me to re-paint my machine. Neverthe- 
less we caught them up. The important 
thing in aeroplanes is that they are speedy. 

I was nearest to the enemy and attacked 
the man to the rear. To my greatest delight 
I noticed that he accepted battle and my 
pleasure was increased when I discovered 
that his comrades deserted him. So I had 
once more a single fight. 

It was a fight similar to the one which I 
had had in the morning. My opponent did 
not make matters easy for me. He knew the 
fighting business and it was particularly 
awkward for me that he was a good shot. 
To my great regret that was quite clear to 
me. 

A favorable wind came to my aid. It drove 
both of us into the German lines.* My oppo- 

*It is well to note how often von Richthofen referi to the wind 
being in his favor. A west wind means that while the machines are 
fighting they are driven steadily over the German lines. Then, 
if the British machine happens to be inferior in speed or manoeuv- 
erability to the German, and is forced down low, the pilot has the 
choice only of fighting to a finish and being killed, or of landing 



THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 

nent discovered that the matter was not so 
simple as he had imagined. So he plunged 
and disappeared in a cloud. He had nearly 
saved himself. 

I plunged after him and dropped out of 
the cloud and, as luck would have it, found 
myself close behind him. I fired and he fired 
without any tangible result. At last I hit 
him. I noticed a ribbon of white benzine 
vapor. He had to land for his engine had 
come to a stop. 

He was a stubborn fellow. He was bound 
to recognize that he had lost the game. If 
he continued shooting I could kill him, for 
meanwhile we had dropped to an altitude 
of about nine hundred feet. However, the 
Englishman defended himself exactly as did 
his countryman in the morning. He fought 
until he landed. When he had come to the 

and being- made prisoner. The prevalence of west winds has, for 
this reason, cost the R. F. C. a very great number of casualties in 
killed and missing, who, if the fight had occurred over territory 
held by the British, would merely have landed till the attacking 
machine had taken itself oflf. For similar reasons, the fact that 
the R. F. C. has always been on the offensive, and so has always 
been flying over the German lines has caused many casualties. 
Under all the circumstances it is surprising that the R. F. C. casu- 
alties have not been a great deal heavier. 



THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 

ground I flew over him at an altitude of 
about thirty feet in order to ascertain 
whether I had killed him or not. What did 
the rascal do? He took his machine-gun 
and shot holes into my machine. 

Afterwards Voss told me if that had hap- 
pened to him he would have shot the airman 
on the ground. As a matter of fact I ought 
to have done so for he had not surrendered. 
He was one of the few fortunate fellows 
who escaped with their lives. 

I felt very merry, flew home and cele- 
brated my thirty-third aeroplane. 



^53 



XI 

My Record-Day 

'T* HE weather was glorious. We were 
*■ ready for starting. I had as a visitor a 
gentleman who had never seen a fight in the 
or anything resembling it and he had just 
assured me that it would tremendously in- 
terest him to witness an aerial battle. 

We climbed into our machines and 
laughed heartily at our visitor's eagerness. 
Friend Schafer* thought that we might give 
him some fun. We placed him before a tele- 
scope and off we went. 

The day began well. We had scarcely 
flown to an altitude of six thousand feet 
when an English squadron of five machines 
was seen coming our way. We attacked 
them by a rush as if we were cavalry and 

•Schafer wa* also shot by Lieut. Rhys-Davids, R. F. C, later 
in 1917. 



THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 

the hostile squadron lay destroyed on the 
ground. None of our men was even 
wounded. Of our enemies three had plunged 
to the ground and two had come down in 
flames. 

The good fellow down below was not a 
little surprised. He had imagined that the 
affair would look quite different, that it 
would be far more dramatic. He thought 
the whole encounter had looked quite harm- 
less until suddenly some machines came 
falling down looking like rockets. I have 
gradually become accustomed to seeing ma- 
chines falling down, but I must say it im- 
pressed me very deeply when I saw the first 
Englishman fall and I have often seen the 
event again in my dreams. 

As the day had begun so propitiously we 
sat down and had a decent breakfast. All 
of us were as hungry as wolves. In the 
meantime our machines were again made 
ready for starting. Fresh cartridges were 
got and then we went off again. 

In the evening we could send off the proud 
report: "Six German machines have de- 

155 



THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 

stroyed thirteen hostile aeroplanes."* 
Boelcke's Squadron had only once been 
able to make a similar report. At that time 
we had shot down eight machines. To-day 
one of us had brought low four of his oppo- 
nents. The hero was a Lieutenant Wolff, 
a delicate-looking little fellow in whom no- 
body could have suspected a redoubtable 
hero. My brother had destroyed two, Scha- 
fer two, Festner two and I three. 

We went to bed in the evening tremend- 
ously proud but also terribly tired. On the 
following day we read with noisy approval 
about our deeds of the previous day in the 
official communique. On the next day we 
downed eight hostile machines. 

A very amusing thing occurred. One of 
the Englishmen whom we had shot down 
and whom we had made a prisoner was talk- 
ing with us. Of course he inquired after the 
Red Aeroplane. It is not unknown even 

*It is possible that the figures are correct. Early in 1917, 
before the advent of the British fighters and de Havilands in 
quantities, the R. F. C. was having a very bad time. On April 7, 
for example, it was reported in the G. H. Q. Communique that 
twenty-eight English machines were missing. 



THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 

among the troops in the trenches and is 
called by them *'le diable rouge." In the 
Squadron to which he belonged there 
was a rumor that the Red Machine was 
occupied by a girl, by a kind of Jeanne 
d'Arc. He was intensely surprised when 
I assured him that the supposed girl was 
standing in front of him. He did not 
intend to make a joke. He was actually 
convinced that only a girl could sit in 
the extravagantly painted machine. 

"Morit3" 

THE most beautiful being in all crea- 
tion is the genuine Danish hound, my 
little lap-dog, my Moritz. I bought him in 
Ostend from a brave Belgian for five marks. 
His mother was a beautiful animal and one 
of his fathers also was pure-bred. I am 
convinced of that. I could select one of the 
litter and I chose the prettiest. Zeumer took 
another puppy and called it Max. 

Max came to a sudden end. He was run 
over by a motor car. Moritz flourished ex- 
ceedingly. He slept with me in my bed and 

157 



THE RED BATTLE -FLYER 

received a most excellent education. He 
never left me while I was in Ostend and 
obtained my entire affection. Month by 
month Moritz grew, and gradually my ten- 
der little lap-dog became a colossal, big 
beast. 

Once I even took him with me. He was 
my first observer. He behaved very sens- 
ibly. He seemed much interested in every- 
thing and looked at the world from above. 
Only my mechanics were dissatisfied when 
they had to clean the machine. Afterwards 
Moritz was very merry. 

Moritz is more than a year old and he is 
still as child-like as if he were still in his 
teens. He is very fond of playing billiards. 
In doing this he has destroyed many billiard 
balls and particularly many a billiard cloth. 
He has a great passion for the chase. My 
mechanics are highly satisfied with his sport- 
ing inclinations for he has caught for them 
many a nice hare. I do not much approve 
of his hunting proclivities. Consequently he 
gets a whacking if I catch him at it. 

He has a silly peculiarity. He likes to 

158 



THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 

accompany the flying machines at the start. 
Frequently the normal death of a flying- 
man's dog is death from the propeller. One 
day he rushed in front of a flying-machine 
which had been started. The aeroplane 
caught him up and a beautiful propeller 
was smashed to bits. Moritz howled 
terribly and a measure which I had hith- 
erto omitted was taken. I had always 
The aeroplane caught him up and a beautiful 
propeller was smashed to bits. Moritz 
howled terribly and a measure which I had 
hitherto omitted was taken. I had always 
refused to have his ears cut. One of his 
ears was cut off by the propeller. A long 
ear and a short ear do not go well together. 
Moritz has taken a very sensible view of 
the world-war and of our enemies. When in 
the summer of 1916 he saw for the first time 
Russian natives — the train had stopped and 
Moritz was being taken for a walk — he 
chased the Russian crowd with loud bark- 
ing. He has no great opinion of French- 
men although he is, after all, a Belgian. 
Once, when I had settled in new quarters, I 

159 



THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 

ordered the people to clean the house. When 
I came back in the evening nothing had been 
done. I got angry and asked the Frenchman 
to come and see me. When he opened the 
door Moritz greeted him rather brusquely. 
Immediately I understood why no cleaning 
had been done. 

The English Attack Our Aerodrome 

lyj IGHTS in which the full moon is shin- 
*' ^ ing are most suitable for night flying. 

During the full moon nights of the month 
of April our English friends were particu- 
larly industrious. This was during the 
Battle of Arras. Probably they had found 
out that we had comfortably installed our- 
selves on a beautiful large flying ground at 
Douai. 

One night when we were in the Oflicers' 
Mess the telephone started ringing and we 
were told : "The English are coming." There 
was a great hullabaloo. We had bomb- 
proof shelters. They had been got ready by 
our excellent Simon. Simon is our archi- 
tect, surveyor and builder. 

i6o 



THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 

We dived down into shelter and we heard 
actually, at first a very gentle humming and 
then the noise of engines. The searchlights 
had apparently got notice at the same time 
as we, for they started getting ready. 

The nearest enemy was still too far away 
to be attacked. We were colossally merry. 
The only thing we feared was that the Eng- 
lish would not succeed in finding our aero- 
drome. To find some fixed spot at night is 
by no means easy. It was particularly diffi- 
cult to find us because our aerodrome was 
not situated on an important highway or 
near water or a railway, by which one can 
be guided during one's flight at night.* The 
Englishmen were apparently flying at a 
great altitude. At first they circled around 
our entire establishment. We began to 
think that they had given up and were look- 
ing for another objective. Suddenly we no- 
ticed that the nearest one had switched ofif 
his engine. So he was coming lower. Wolff 

*This might be a useful hint to some people who like to build 
repair depots, or big bombing aerodromes, right alongside the 
sea a few miles behind the firing line, so that they may be easily 
located after the shortest possible flight by the most inexperienced 
bombing pilot. 

i6i 



THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 

said: "Now the matter is becoming serious." 

We had two carbines and began shooting 
at the Englishman. We could not see him. 
Still the noise of our shooting was a sedative 
to our nerves. 

Suddenly he was taken up by the search- 
lights. There was shouting all over the fly- 
ing ground. Our friend was sitting in a pre- 
historic packing case.* We could clearly 
recognize the type. He was half a mile 
away from us and was flying straight to- 
wards us. 

He went lower and lower. At last he had 
come down to an altitude of about three hun- 
dred feet. Then he started his engine again 
and came straight towards the spot where 
we were standing. 

Wolff thought that he took an interest in 
the other side of our establishment and be- 
fore long the first bomb fell and it was fol- 
lowed by a number of other missiles. 

Our friend amused us with very pretty 
fireworks. They could have frightened only 

•One assumes that the reference is to the ancient F. E. 2b. 
"pusher" biplane, which, though produced in 1915, was still used 
£or night bombing up till well on in 1918. 

162 



THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 

a coward. Broadly speaking, I find that 
bomb-throwing at night has only a moral 
effect. Those who are easily frightened are 
strongly affected when bombs fall at night. 
The others don't care. 

We were much amused at the English- 
man's performance and thought the English 
would come quite often on a visit. The fly- 
ing piano dropped its bombs at last from 
an altitude of one hundred and fifty feet. 
That was rather impertinent for in a moon- 
lit night I think I can hit a wild pig at one 
hundred and fift}^ feet with a rifle. Why 
then should I not succeed in hitting the Eng- 
lishman? It would have been a novelty to 
down an English airman from the ground. 

From above I had already had the honor 
of downing a number of Englishmen, but I 
had never tried to tackle an aviator from 
below. 

When the Englishman had gone we went 
back to mess and discussed among ourselves 
how we should receive the English should 
they pay us another visit on the following 
night. In the course of the next day our 

163 



THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 

orderlies and other fellows were made to 
work with great energy. They had to ram 
into the ground piles which were to be used 
as a foundation for machine guns during the 
coming night. 

We went to the butts and tried the Eng- 
lish machine guns which we had taken from 
the enemy, arranged the sights for night 
shooting and were very curious as to what 
was going to happen. I will not betray the 
number of our machine guns. Anyhow, they 
were to be sufficient for the purpose. Every- 
one of my officers was armed with one. 

We were again sitting at mess. Of course 
we were discussing the problem of night 
fliers. Suddenly an orderly rushed in shout- 
ing: "They are there! They are there!" and 
disappeared in the next bomb-proof in his 
scanty attire. We all rushed to our ma- 
chine guns. Some of the men who were 
known to be good shots, had also been given 
a machine gun. All the rest were provided 
with carbines. The whole squadron was 
armed to the teeth to give a warm recep- 
tion to our kindly visitors. 

164 



THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 

The first Englishman arrived, exactly as 
on the previous evening, at a very great alti- 
tude. He went then down to one hundred 
and fifty feet and to our greatest joy began 
making for the place where our barracks 
were. He got into the glare of the search- 
light. 

When he was only three hundred yards 
away someone fired the first shot and all the 
rest of us joined in. A rush of cavalry or 
of storming troops could not have been met 
more efficiently than the attack of that single 
impertinent individual flying at one hundred 
and fifty feet. 

Quick firing from many guns received 
him. Of course he could not hear the noise 
of the machine guns. The roar of his motor 
prevented that. However, he must have 
seen the flashes of our guns. Therefore I 
thought it tremendously plucky that our 
man did not swerve, but continued going 
straight ahead in accordance with his plan.* 

•This description is typical of what these extraordinary night- 
flying pilots do with their ancient "flying pianos" night after 
night, when the weather is reasonable. Von Richthofen's generous 
admiration is thoroughly well deserved. 



THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 

At the moment he was perpendicularly 
above us we jumped quickly into our bomb 
proof. It would have been too silly for fly- 
ing men to die by a rotten bomb. 

As soon as he had passed over our heads 
we rushed out again and fired after him 
with our machine guns and rifles. 

Friend Schafer asserted that he had hit 
the man. Schafer is quite a good shot. Still, 
in this case I did not believe him. Besides, 
everyone of us had as good a chance at mak- 
ing a hit as he had. 

We had achieved something, for the 
enemy had dropped his bombs rather aim- 
lessly owing to our shooting. One of them, 
it is true, had exploded only a few yards 
from the "petit rouge," but had not hurt 
him. 

During the night the fun recommenced 
several times. I was already in bed, fast 
asleep, when I heard in a dream anti-aircraft 
firing. I woke up and discovered that the 
dream was reality. One of the Englishmen 
flew at so low an altitude over my habitation 
that in my fright I pulled the blanket over 

i66 



THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 

my head. The next moment I heard an in- 
credible bang just outside my window. The 
panes had fallen a victim to the bomb. I 
rushed out of my room in my shirt in order 
to fire a few shots after him. They were 
firing from everywhere. Unfortunately, I 
had overslept my opportunity. 

The next morning we were extremely sur- 
prised and delighted to discover that we had 
shot down from the ground no fewer than 
three Englishmen. They had landed not far 
from our aerodrome and had been made 
prisoners. 

As a rule we had hit the engines and had 
forced the airmen to come down on our side 
of the Front. After all, Schafer was pos- 
sibly right in his assertion. At any rate, we 
were very well satisfied with our success. 
The English were distinctly less satisfied for 
they preferred avoiding our base. It was a 
pity that they gave us a wide berth, for they 
gave us lots of fun. Let us hope that they 
come back to us next month. 



167 



XII 

Schafer Lands Between the Lines 

'IIT'E went on a shooting expedition on the 
'" twentieth of April. We came home 
very late and lost Schafer on the way. 

Of course everyone hoped that he would 
come to hand before dark. It struck nine, 
it struck ten, but no Schafer was visible. His 
benzine could not last so long. Conse- 
quently, he had landed somewhere, for no 
one was willing to admit that he had been 
shot down. No one dared to mention the 
possibility. Still, everyone was afraid for 
him. 

The ubiquitous telephone was set in mo- 
tion in order to find out whether a flying 
man had come down anywhere. Nobody 
could give us information. No Division and 
no Brigade had seen anything of him. We 

i68 



THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 

felt very uncomfortable. At last we went to 
bed. All of us were perfectly convinced 
that he would turn up in the end. 

At two o'clock, after midnight, I was sud- 
denly awakened. The telephone orderly, 
beaming with pleasure, reported to me: 
"Schafer is in the Village of Y. and would 
like to be fetched home." 

The next morning when we were sitting 
at breakfast the door opened and my dear 
pilot stood before me. His clothes were as 
filthy as those of an infantryman who has 
fought at Arras for a fortnight. He was 
greeted with a general Hurrah ! Schafer was 
tremendously happy and elated and tremend- 
ously excited about his adventure. When 
he had finished his breakfast he told us the 
following tale : 

*'I was flying along the front intending to 
return home. Suddenly I noticed far below 
me something that looked like an infantry 
flier. I attacked him, shot him down, and 
meant to fly back. However, the English in 
the trenches did not mean me to get away 
and started peppering me like anything. My 

169 



THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 

salvation lay in the rapidity of my machine, 
for those rascals, of course, would forget 
that they had to aim far in front of me if 
they wished to hit me. 

"I was at an altitude of perhaps six hun- 
dred feet. Suddenly, I heard a smash and 
my engine stopped running. There was 
nothing to do but to land. I asked myself 
whether I should be able to get away from 
the English position. It seemed very ques- 
tionable. The English noticed my predica- 
ment and started shooting like mad. 

"As my engine was no longer running I 
could hear every single shot. The position 
became awkward. I came down and landed. 
Before my machine had come to a standstill 
they squirted upon me heaps of bullets from 
machine guns in the hedge of the village of 
Monchy near Arras. My machine became 
splashed with bullets. 

"I jumped out of it and down into the 
first shell hole. Squatting there I reflected 
and tried to realize exactly where I was. 
Gradually it became clear to me that I had 
landed outside the English lines, but curs- 

170 



THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 

edly near them. Happily it was rather late 
in the evening- and that was my salvation. 

"Before long the first shell came along. 
Of course they were gas shells and I had no 
mask with me. My eyes started watering 
like anything. Before darkness set in the 
English ascertained the distance of the spot 
where I had landed with machine guns. Part 
of them aimed at my machine and part at 
my shell crater. The bullets constantly hit 
its rim. 

"In order to quiet my nerves I lit a cigar- 
ette. Then I took off my heavy fur coat and 
prepared everything for a leap and a run. 
Every minute seemed to me an hour. 

"Gradually it became dark, but only very 
gradually. Around me I heard partridges 
giving a concert. As an experienced shot I 
recognized from their voices that they felt 
quite happy and contented, that there was 
no danger of my being surprised in my hid- 
ing place. 

"At last it became quite dark. Suddenly 
and quite close to me a couple of partridges 
flew up. A second couple followed. It was 

171 



THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 

obvious that danger was approaching. No 
doubt a patrol was on the way to wish me 
a happy evening. 

"I had no time to lose. Now or never. 
First I crept very cautiously on my chest 
from shell hole to shell hole. After creeping 
industriously for about an hour and a half 
I noticed I was nearing humans. Were they 
English or were they Germans ? They came 
nearer and I could almost have fallen round 
their necks, when I discovered our own 
musketeers. They were a German patrol 
who were nosing about in No Man's Land. 

"One of the men conducted me to the Com- 
mander of his Company. I was told that in 
the evening I had landed about fifty yards 
in front of the enemy lines and that our in- 
fantry had given me up for lost. I had a 
good supper and then I started on my way 
home. Behind me there was far more shoot- 
ing than in front of me. Every path, every 
trench, every bush, every hollow, was 
under enemy fire. The English attacked on 
the next morning, and consequently, they 
had to begin their artillery preparation the 

172 



THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 

evening before. So I had chosen an unfav- 
orable day for my enterprise. I reached the 
first telephone only at two o'clock in the 
morning w^hen I 'phoned to the Squadron." 
We were all very happy to have our Scha- 
fer again with us. He went to bed. Any 
other man would have taken a rest from 
flying for twenty-four hours. But on the 
afternoon of this very day friend Schafer 
attacked a low flying B. E. above Monchy. 

The Anti-Richthofen Squadron 

np HE English had hit upon a splendid joke. 
-*• They intended to catch me or to bring 
me down. For that purpose they had actu- 
ally organized a special squadron which flew 
about in that part which we frequented as 
a rule. We discovered its particular aim by 
the fact that its aggressive activity was 
principally directed against our red ma- 
chines. 

I would say that all the machines of the 
squadron had been painted red because our 
English friends had by-and-by perceived that 
I was sitting in a blood-red band-box. Sud- 

173 



THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 

denly there were quite a lot of red machines 
and the English opened their eyes wide when 
one fine day they saw a dozen red barges 
steaming along instead of a single one. Our 
new trick did not prevent them from making 
an attempt at attacking us. I preferred their 
new tactics. It is better that one's custom- 
ers come to one's shop than to have to look 
for them abroad. 

We flew to the front hoping to find our 
enemy. After about twenty minutes the 
first arrived and attacked us. That had not 
happened to us for a long time. The English 
had abandoned their celebrated offensive 
tactics to some extent. They had found them 
somewhat too expensive. 

Our aggressors were three Spad one- 
seater machines. Their occupants thought 
themselves very superior to us because of 
the excellence of their apparatus. Wolff, my 
brother and I, were flying together. We 
were three against three. That was as it 
ought to be. 

Immediately at the beginning of the en- 
counter the aggressive became a defensive. 

174 



THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 

Our superiority became clear. I tackled my 
opponent and could see how my brother and 
Wolff handled each his own enemy. The 
usual waltzing began. We were circling 
around one another. A favorable wind came 
to our aid. It drove us, fighting, away from 
the front in the direction of Germany. 

My man was the first who fell down. I 
suppose I had smashed up his engine. At 
any rate, he made up his mind to land. I no 
longer gave pardon to him. Therefore, I 
attacked him a second time and the conse- 
quence was that his whole machine went 
to pieces. His planes dropped off like pieces 
of paper and the body of the machine fell 
like a stone, burning fiercely. It dropped 
into a morass. It was impossible to dig it out 
and I have never discovered the name of my 
opponent. He had disappeared. Only the 
end of the tail was visible and marked the 
place where he had dug his own grave. 

Simultaneously with me, Wolff and my 
brother had attacked their opponents and 
had forced them to land not far from my 
victim. 

175 



THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 

We were very happy and flew home and 
hoped that the anti-Richthofen Squadron 
would often return to the fray.* 

We Are Visited By My Father 

MY father had announced that he would 
visit his two sons on the twenty- 
ninth of April. My father is commander of 
a little town in the vicinity of Lille. There- 
fore he does not live very far away from us. 
I have occasionally seen him on my flights. 
He intended to arrive by train at nine 
o'clock. At half past nine he came to our 
aerodrome. We just happened to have re- 
turned from an expedition. My brother was 
the first to climb out of his machine, and 
he greeted the old gentleman with the 
words: "Good day, Father. I have just shot 
down an Englishman." Immediately after, 
I also climbed out of my machine and 
greeted him "Good day, Father, I have just 
shot down an Englishman." The old gentle- 
man felt very happy and he was delighted. 

*One can find no trace of any deliberate attempt to organize 
an anti-Richthofen Circus in the R. F. C, and therefore one 
assumes that these were merely three gallant lads on new type 
Spads who went out deliberately on their own account to look for 
trouble, and found more than they expected. 

176 



THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 

That was obvious. He is not one of those 
fathers who are afraid for their sons. I 
think he would like best to get into a ma- 
chine himself and help us shoot. We break- 
fasted with him and then we went flying 
again. 

In the meantime, an aerial fight took 
place above our aerodrome. My father 
looked on and was greatly interested. We 
did not take a hand in the fight for we were 
standing on the ground and looked on our- 
selves. 

An English squadron had broken through 
and was being attacked above our aerodrome 
by some of our own reconnoitering aero- 
planes. Suddenly one of the machines 
started turning over and over. Then it re- 
covered itself and came gliding down nor- 
mally. We saw, with regret this time, that it 
was a German machine. 

The Englishman flew on. The German 
aeroplane had apparently been damaged. It 
was quite correctly handled. It came down 
and tried to land on our flying ground. The 
room was rather narrow for the large ma- 

177 



THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 

chine. Besides, the ground was unfamiliar 
to the pilot. Hence, the landing was not 
quite smooth. We ran towards the aero- 
plane and discovered with regret that one 
of the occupants of the machine, the ma- 
chine gunner, had been killed. The spec- 
tacle was new to my father. It made him 
serious. 

The day promised to be a favorable one 
for us. The weather was wonderfully clear. 
The anti-aircraft guns were constantly 
audible. Obviously, there was much aircraft 
about. 

Towards mid-day we flew once more. 
This time, I was again lucky and shot down 
my second Englishman of the day. The Gov- 
ernor recovered his good spirits. 

After the mid-day dinner I slept a little. I 
was again quite fresh. Wolff had fought the 
enemy in the meantime with his group of 
machines and had himself bagged an enemy. 
Schafer also had eaten one. In the after- 
noon my brother and I accompanied by Scha- 
fer, Festner and Allmenroder flew twice 
more. 

178 



THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 

The first afternoon flight was a failure. 
The second was all the better. Soon after 
we had come to the front a hostile squadron 
met us. Unfortunately they occupied a 
higher altitude so we could not do anything. 
We tried to climb to their level but did not 
succeed. We had to let them go.* ^ 

We flew along the front. My brother was 
next to me, in front of the others. Suddenly 
I noticed two hostile artillery fliers ap- 
proaching our front in the most impertinent 
and provocative manner. I waved to my 
brother and he understood my meaning. We 
flew side by side increasing our speed. Each 
of us felt certain that he was superior to the 
enemy. It was a great thing that we could 
absolutely rely on one another and that was 
the principal thing. One has to know one's 
flying partner. 

My brother was the first to approach his 
enemy. He attacked the first and I took care 
of the second. At the last moment I quickly 
looked round in order to feel sure that there 
was no third aeroplane about. We were 

•This appears to be the first admission that the newer British 
machines could out-climb the famous Albatros chasers. 

179 



THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 

alone and could see eye to eye. Soon I had 
got on the favorable side of my opponent. A 
short spell of quick firing and the enemy ma- 
chine went to pieces. I never had a more 
rapid success. 

While I v^as still looking where my ene- 
my's fragments were falling, I noticed my 
brother. He was scarcely five hundred yards 
away from me and was still fighting his op- 
ponent. 

I had time to study the struggle and must 
say that I myself could not have done any 
better than he did. He had rushed his man 
and both were turning around one another. 
Suddenly, the enemy machine reared. That 
is a certain indication of a hit. Probably the 
pilot was shot in the head. The machine 
fell and the planes of the enemy apparatus 
went to pieces. They fell quite close to my 
victim. I flew towards my brother and we 
congratulated one another by waving. We 
were highly satisfied with our performance 
and flew off. It is a splendid thing when one 
can fly together with one's brother and do 
so well. 

i8o 



THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 

In the meantime, the other fellows of the 
squadron had drawn near and were watch- 
ing the spectacle of the fight of the two 
brothers. Of course they could not help us, 
for only one man can shoot down an oppo- 
nent. If one airman has tackled his enemy 
the others cannot assist. They can only look 
on and protect his back. Otherwise, he 
might be attacked in the rear. 

We flew on and went to a higher altitude, 
for there was apparently a meeting some- 
where in the air for the members of the Anti- 
Richthofen Club. They could recognize us 
from far away. In the powerful sunlight, 
the beautiful red color of our machines could 
be seen at a long distance. 

We closed our ranks for we knew that our . 
English friends pursued the same business 
as we. Unfortunately, they were again too 
high. So we had to wait for their attack. 
The celebrated triplanes and Spads were per- 
fectly new machines. However, the quality 
of the box matters little. Success depends 
upon the man who sits in it. The English 
airmen played a cautious game but would 

i8i 



THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 

not bite. We offered to fight them, either 
on one side of the front or on the other. But 
they said : No, thank you. What is the good 
of bringing out a squadron against us and 
then turning tail?* 

At last, one of the men plucked up cour- 
age and dropped down upon our rear ma- 
chine. Naturally battle was accepted al- 
though our position was unfavorable. If 
you wish to do business you must, after all, 
adapt yourself to the desires of your cus- 
tomers. Therefore we all turned round. 
The Englishman noticed what was going on 
and got away. The battle had begun. 

Another Englishman tried a similar trick 
on me and I greeted him at once with quick 
fire from my two machine guns. He tried 
to escape me by dropping down. That was 
fatal to him. When he got beneath me I 
remained on top of him. Everything in the 
air that is beneath me, especially if it is a 
one-seater, a chaser, is lost, for it cannot 
shoot to the rear. 

•The probability is that the British machines being high up, 
and watching the sky all round, did not notice, the little red 
machines against the dark ground below them for some time. 

182 



THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 

My opponent had a very good and very 
fast machine. However, he did not succeed 
in reaching the English lines. I began to 
fire at him when we were above Lens. I 
started shooting when I was much too far 
away. That was merely a trick of mine. I 
did not mean so much to hit him as to 
frighten him, and I succeeded in catching 
him. He began flying curves and this en- 
abled me to draw near. I tried the same 
manoeuver a second and a third time. 
Everytime my foolish friend started making 
his curves I gradually edged quite close to 
him. 

I approached him almost to touching dis- 
tance. I aimed very carefully. I waited a 
moment and when I was at most at a dis- 
tance of fifty yards from him I started with 
both the machine guns at the same time. I 
heard a slight hissing noise, a certain sign 
that the benzine tanks had been hit. Then 
I saw a bright flame and my lord disap- 
peared below. 

This was the fourth victim of the day. 
My brother had bagged two. Apparently, 

183 



THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 

we had invited our father to a treat. His 
joy was wonderful. 

I had invited several gentlemen for the 
evening. Among these was my dear Wedel 
who happened to be in the neighborhood. 
We had a great treat. The two brothers 
had bagged six Englishmen in a single day. 
That is a whole flying squadron.* 

I believe the English cease to feel any 
sympathy for us.** 

/ Fly Home 
J HAD shot down fifty aeroplanes. That 
-*■ was a good number but I would have 
preferred fifty-two. So I went up one day 
and had another two, although it was 
against orders. 

As a matter of fact I had been allowed to 
bag only forty-one. Anyone will be able to 
guess why the number was fixed at forty- 

*A whole squadron is eighteen machines, divided into three 
"flights" of six machines each. The word squadron does not, 
apparently, translate exactly into German. 

••Nevertheless, some months after this, a young British pilot 
was being entertained one evening by his squadron in celebration 
of his having been awarded the D. S. O., and when called upon 
for a speech proposed the health of von Richthofen. And the squad- 
ron duly honored the toast. 

184 



THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 



one. Just for that reason I wanted to avoid 
that figure. I am not out for breaking rec- 
ords. Besides, generally speaking, we of the 
Flying Corps do not think of records at all. 
We merely think of our duty. Boelcke might 
have shot down a hundred aeroplanes but 
for his accident, and many others of our dear 
dead comrades might have vastly increased 
their bag but for their sudden death. Still, 
it is some fun to have dov/ned half a hundred 
aeroplanes. After all, I had succeeded in 
obtaining permission to bring down fifty ma- 
chines before going on leave. 

I hope that I may live to celebrate a second 
lot of fifty. 

In the evening of that particular day the 
telephone bell was ringing. Headquarters 
wished to §peak to me. It seemed to me the 
height of fun to be connected with the holy 
of holies. 

Over the wire they gave me the cheerful 
news that His Majesty had expressed the 
wish to make my personal acquaintance and 
had fixed the date for me. I had to make 
an appearance on the second of May. The 

185 



THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 

notification reached me on the thirtieth of 
April at nine o'clock in the evening. I should 
not have been able to fulfil the wish of our 
All-Highest War-Lord by taking the train. 
I therefore thought I v^ould travel by air, 
especially as that mode of locomotion is far 
pleasanter. I started the next morning, not 
in my single-seater "le petit rouge" but in 
a big fat double-seater. 

I took a seat at the rear, not at the sticks. 
The man v^ho had to do the flying was Lieut. 
Krefft, one of the officers of my squadron. 
He was just going on furlough to recover 
his strength, so that it suited him admirably 
to act as my pilot. He reached home more 
quickly traveling by air and he preferred 
the trip by aeroplane. 

I started on the journey rather hastily. 
The only luggage which I took with me was 
my tooth-brush. Therefore, I had to dress 
for the journey in the clothes in which I was 
to appear at Headquarters. Now, a soldier 
does not carry with him many beautiful 
uniforms when he goes to war and the scarc- 
ity of nice clothes is particularly great in 

i86 



THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 

the case of such a poor front hog as my- 
self. 

My brother undertook the command of 
the aeroplane squadron in my absence. I 
took leave with a few words for I hoped soon 
to recommence my work among those dear 
fellows. 

The flight went via Namur, Liege, Aix la 
Chapelle and Cologne. It was lovely for 
once to sail through the air without any 
thoughts of war. The weather was won- 
derful. We had rarely had such a perfect 
time. Probably the men at the front would 
be extremely busy. 

Soon our own captive balloons were lost 
to sight. The thunder of the Battle of Arras 
was only heard in the distance. Beneath us 
all was peace. We saw steamers on the 
rivers and fast trains on the railways. We 
easily overtook everything below. The wind 
was in our favor. The earth seemed as flat 
as a threshing floor. The beautiful moun- 
tains of the Meuse were not recognizable as 
mountains. One could not even trace them 
by their shadows, for the sun was right 

187 



THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 

above us. We only knew that they were 
there and with a Httle imagination we could 
hide ourselves in the cool glades of that de- 
lightful country. 

It had become late. Clouds were gather- 
ing below and hid from us the earth. We 
flew on, taking our direction by means of 
the sun and the compass. The vicinity of 
Holland was disagreeable to us. We decided 
to go lower in order to find out where we 
were. We went beneath the cloud and dis- 
covered that we were above Namur. 

We then went on to Aix la Chapelle. We 
left that town to our left and about mid-day 
we reached Cologne. We both were in high 
spirits. We had before us a long leave of 
absence. The weather was beautiful. We 
had succeeded in all our undertakings. We 
had reached Cologne. We could be certain 
to get to Headquarters in time, whatever 
might happen. 

Our coming had been announced in Col- 
ogne by telegram. People were looking out 
for us. On the previous day the newspapers 
had reported my fifty-second aerial victory. 

i88 



THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 

One can imagine what kind of a reception 
they had prepared for us. 

Having been flying for three hours I had 
a slight headache. Therefore, I thought I 
would take forty winks, before going to 
Headquarters. From Cologne we flew along 
the Rhine for some distance. I knew the 
country well. I had often journeyed that 
way by steamer, by motor car, and by rail- 
way, and now I was traveling by aeroplane. 
It is difficult to say which of these is the 
most pleasant form of locomotion. Of 
course, one can see the details of the land- 
scape better from the steamer. However, 
the commanding view one gets from an aero- 
plane has also its attractions. The Rhine is 
a very beautiful river, from above as well 
as from any other viewpoint. 

We flew rather low in order not to lose 
the sensation that we were traveling among 
mountains, for after all the most beautiful 
part of the Rhine are the tree clad hills and 
castles. Of course we could not make out 
individual houses. It is a pity that one can- 
not fly slowly and quickly. If it had been 

189 



THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 

possible I would have flown quite slowly. 

The beautiful views which we saw van- 
ished only too quickly. Nevertheless, when 
one flies high in the air one never has the 
sensation that one is proceeding at a fast 
pace. If you are sitting in a motor car or 
in a fast train you have the impression of 
tremendous speed. On the other hand, you 
seem to be advancing slowly when you fly 
in an aeroplane at a considerable speed. You j 
notice the celerity of your progress only * 
when you have not looked out of your ma- 
chine for four or five minutes and then try I 
to find out where you are. Then the aspect 
of the country appears suddenly completely 
changed. The terrain which you passed over 
a little while ago looks quite different under 
a different angle, and you do not recognize 
the scenery you have passed. Herein lies 
the reason that an airman can easily lose his 
way if he forgets for a moment to examine 
the territory. 

In the afternoon we arrived at Head- 
quarters and were cordially received by some 
comrades with whom I was acquainted and t 

190 



THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 

who worked at the holiest of holies. I abso- 
lutely pitied those poor ink-spillers. They 
get only half the fun in war. 

First of all I went to the General com- 
manding the Air Forces. 

On the next morning came the great mo- 
ment when I was to meet Hindenburg and 
Ludendorf. I had to wait for quite a while. 

I should find it difficult to describe my 
encounter with these Generals. I saw Hin- 
denburg first and then Ludendorf. 

It is a weird feeling to be in the room 
where the fate of the world is decided. I 
was quite glad when I was again outside 
the holiest of holies and when I had been 
commanded to lunch with His Majesty. The 
day was the day of my birth and somebody 
had apparently told His Majesty. He con- 
gratulated me in the first place on my suc- 
cess, and in the second, on my twenty-fifth 
birthday. At the same time he handed me 
a small birthday present. 

Formerly I would never have believed it 
possible that on my twenty-fifth birthday 
I would be sitting at the right of General 

191 



THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 

Field Marshal von Hindenburg and that I 
would be mentioned by him in a speech. 

On the day following I was to take mid- 
day dinner with Her Majesty. And so I 
went to Homburg. Her Majesty also gave 
me a birthday present and I had the great 
pleasure to show her how to start an aero- 
plane. In the evening I was again invited 
by General Field Marshal von Hindenburg. 
The day following I flew to Freiburg to do 
some shooting. At Freiburg I made use of 
the flying machine which was going to Ber- 
lin by air. In Nuremberg I replenished my 
tanks with benzine. A thunderstorm was 
coming on. I was in a great hurry to get to 
Berlin. Various more or less interesting' 
things awaited me there. So I flew on, the 
thunderstorm notwithstanding. I enjoyed 
the clouds and the beastly weather. The 
rain fell in streams. Sometimes it hailed. 
Afterwards the propeller had the most ex- 
traordinary aspect. The hail stones had 
damaged it considerably. The blades looked 
like saws. 

Unfortunately I enjoyed the bad weather 

192 



THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 

SO much that I quite forgot to look about 
me. When I remembered that one has to 
look out it was too late. I had no longer any 
idea where I was. That was a nice position 
to be in! I had lost my way in my own 
country! My people at home would laugh 
when they knew it ! However, there it was 
and couldn't be helped. I had no idea where 
I was. Owing to a 'powerful wind I had 
been driven out of my course and off my 
map. Guided by sun and compass I tried to 
get the direction of Berlin. 

Towns, villages, hills and forests were 
slipping away below me. I did not recog- 
nize a thing. I tried in vain to compare the 
picture beneath my map. Everything was 
different. I found it impossible to recognize 
the country. Later on I discovered the im- 
possibility of finding my way for I was flying 
about sixty miles outside my map. 

After having flown for a couple of hours 
my guide and I resolved to land somewhere 
in the open. That is always unpleasant. 
One cannot tell how the surface of the 
ground is in reality. If one of the wheels 

193 



THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 

gets into a hole one's box is converted into 
matchwood. 

We tried to read the name written upon 
a station, but of course that was impossible, 
it was too small. So we had to land. We 
did it with a heavy heart for nothing else 
could be done. We looked for a meadow 
which appeared suitable from above and 
tried our luck. Close inspection unfortun- 
ately showed that the meadow was not as 
pleasant as it seemed. The fact was obvi- 
ously proved by the slightly bent frame of 
our machine. We had made ourselves 
gloriously ridiculous. We had first lost our 
way and then smashed the machine. So we 
had to continue our journey with the com- 
monplace conveyance, by railway train. 
Slowly but surely, we reached Berlin. We 
had landed in the neighborhood of Leipzig. 
If we had not landed so stupidly, we would 
certainly have reached Berlin. But some- 
times you make a mistake whatever you do. 

Some days later I arrived in Schweidnitz, 
my own town. Although I got there at seven 
o'clock in the morning, there was a large 

194 



THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 

crowd at the station. I was very cordially 
received. In the afternoon various demon- 
strations took place to honor me, among 
others, one of the local Boy Scouts. 

It became clear to me that the people at 
home took a vivid interest in their fighting 
soldiers after all. 



195 



XIII 

My Brother 

T HAD not yet passed eight days of my 
leave when I received the telegram: 
''Lothar is wounded but not mortally." That 
was all. Inquiries showed that he had been 
very rash. He flew against the enemy, 
together with Allmenroder. Beneath him 
and a good distance on the other side of the 
front, he saw in the air a lonely Englishman 
crawling about. He was one of those hostile 
infantry fliers who make themselves par- 
ticularly disagreeable to our troops. We 
molest them a great deal. Whether they 
really achieve anything in crawling along 
the ground is very problematical.* 

My brother was at an altitude of about 
six thousand feet, while the Englishman 

•Probably the fighting- to the east of Amiens in March and 
April, 1918, has demonstrated to the German Army at large that 
quite a great deal is achieved by this "crawling along the ground." 
The use of aeroplanes against infantry and cavalry has been 
developed very greatly since von Richthofen wrote his notes 
in 1917. 

196 



THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 

was at about three thousand feet. He 
quietly approached the Englishman, pre- 
pared to plunge and in a few seconds was 
upon him. The Englishman thought he 
would avoid a duel and he disappeared like- 
wise by a plunge. My brother, without hesi- 
tation, plunged after. He didn't care at all 
whether he was on one side of the front or 
the other. He was animated by a single 
thought : I must down that fellow. That is, 
of course, the correct way of managing 
things. Now and then I myself have acted 
that way. However, if my brother does not 
have at least one success on every flight he 
gets tired of the whole thing. 

Only a little above the ground my brother 
obtained a favorable position towards the 
English flier and could shoot into his shop 
windows. The Englishman fell. There was 
nothing more to be done. 

After such a struggle, especially at a low 
altitude, in the course of which one has so 
often been twisting and turning, and circling 
to the right and to the left, the average mor- 
tal has no longer the slightest notion of his 

197 



THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 

position. On that day it happened that the 
air was somewhat misty. The weather was 
particularly unfavorable. My brother quick- 
ly took his bearings and discovered only then 
that he was a long distance behind the front. 
He was behind the ridge of Vimy. The 
top of that hill is about three hundred feet 
higher than the country around. My 
brother, so the observers on the ground re- 
ported, had disappeared behind the Vimy 
height. 

It is not a particularly pleasant feeling 
to fly home over enemy country. One is 
shot at and cannot shoot back. It is true, 
however, that a hit is rare. My brother ap- 
proached the line. At a low altitude one 
can hear every shot that is fired, and firing 
sounds then very much like the noise made 
by chestnuts which are being roasted. Sud- 
denly, he felt that he had been hit. That 
was queer to him. 

My brother is one of those men who can- 
not see their own blood. If somebody else 
was bleeding it would not impress him very 
greatly, but the sight of his own blood up- 

198 



THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 

sets him. He felt his blood running down 
his right leg in a warm stream. At the same 
time, he noticed a pain in his hip. Below 
the shooting continued. It followed that he 
was still over hostile ground. 

At last the firing gradually ceased. He 
had crossed the front. Now he must be 
nimble for his strength was rapidly ebbing 
away. He saw a wood and next to the wood 
a meadow. Straight for the meadow he flew 
and mechanically, almost unconsciously, he 
switched off the engine. At the same mo-- 
ment he lost consciousness. 

My brother was in a single-seater. No 
one could help him. It is a miracle that he 
came to the ground, for no flying machine 
lands or starts automatically. There is a 
rumor that they have at Cologne an old 
Taube which will start by itself as soon as 
the pilot takes his seat, which makes the 
regulation curve and which lands again after 
exactly five minutes.* Many men pretend to 
have seen that miraculous machine. I have 
not seen it. But still I am convinced that the 

•Curiously enough there is a very similar legend concerning 
an aged school machine at one of the British flying schools. 

199 



THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 

tale is true. Now, my brother was not in 
such a miraculous automatic machine. 
Nevertheless he had not hurt himself in 
landing. He recovered consciousness only 
in hospital, and was sent to Douai. 

It is a curious feeling to see one's brother ] 
fighting with an Englishman. Once I saw 
that Lothar, who was lagging behind the 
squadron, was being attacked by an English 
aviator. It would have been easy for him 
to avoid battle. He need only plunge. But 
he would not do that. That would not even 
occur to him. He does not know how to 
run away. Happily I had observed what 
was going on and was looking for my chance. 

I noticed that the Englishman went for 
my brother and shot at him. My brother 
tried to reach the Englishman's altitude dis- 
regarding the shots. Suddenly his machine 
turned a somersault and plunged perpen- 
dicularly, turning round and round. It was 
not an intended plunge, but a regular fall. 
That is not a nice thing to look at, especially 
if the falling airman is one's own brother. 
Gradually I had to accustom myself to that 

200 



THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 

sight for it was one of my brother's tricks. 
As soon as he felt sure that the Enghshman 
was his superior he acted as if he had been 
shot. 

The Englishman rushed after him. My 
brother recovered his balance and in a mo- 
ment had got above his enemy. The hostile 
aeroplane could not equally quickly get 
ready for what was to come. My brother 
caught it at a favorable angle and a few 
seconds after it went down in flames. When 
a machine is burning all is lost for it falls to 
the ground burning. 

Once I was on the ground next to a ben- 
zine tank. It contained one hundred litres 
of benzine which exploded and burnt. The 
heat was so great that I could not bear to 
be within ten yards of it. One can therefore 
imagine what it means if a tank containing 
a large quantity of this devilish liquid ex- 
plodes a few inches in front of one while 
the blast from the propeller blows the flame 
into one's face. I believe a man must lose 
consciousness at the very first moment. 

Sometimes miracles do happen. For in- 

201 



THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 

stance, I once saw an English aeroplane fall- 
ing down in flames. The flames burst out 
only at an altitude of fifteen hundred feet. 
The whole machine was burning. When we 
had flown home we were told that one of 
the occupants of the machine had jumped 
from an altitude of one hundred and fifty- 
feet. It was the observer. One hundred and 
fifty feet is the height of a good sized steeple. 
Supposing somebody should jump from its 
top to the ground, what would be his con- 
dition? Most men would break their bones 
in jumping from a first floor window. At 
any rate, this good fellow jumped from a 
burning machine at an altitude of one hun- 
dred and fifty feet, from a machine which 
had been burning for over a minute, and 
nothing happened to him except a simple 
fracture of the leg. Soon after his adven- 
ture he made a statement from which it ap- 
pears that his nerve had not suffered.* 
Another time, I shot down an Englishman. 

*0n two or three occasions pilots have gallantly stuck to their 
controls and have managed to land safely in blazing machines from 
fully 1,000 feet. There is a general opinion that it is possible to fit a 
parachute so that in the event of an aeroplane catching fire th« 
pilot and passenger can quit it at once and descend safely. 

202 



1 



THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 

The pilot had been fatally wounded in the 
head. The machine fell perpendicularly to 
earth from an altitude of nine thousand feet. 
Some time later I came gliding down and 
saw on the ground nothing but a heap of 
twisted debris. To my surprise I was told 
that the observer had only damaged his skull 
and that his condition was not dangerous. 
Some people have luck indeed. 

Once upon a time, Boelcke shot down a 
Nieuport machine. I was present. The 
aeroplane fell like a stone. When we in- 
spected it we found that it had been driven 
up to the middle into the loamy soil. The 
occupant had been shot in the abdomen and 
had lost consciousness and had wrenched his 
arm out of its socket on striking the ground. 
He did not die of his fall. 

On the other hand, it has happened that 
a good friend of mine in landing had a slight 
accident. One of the wheels of his machine 
got into a rabbit hole. The aeroplane was 
traveling at no speed and quite slowly went 
on its head. It seemed to reflect whether it 
should fall to the one side or to the other, 

203 



THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 

turned over and the poor fellow's back was 
broken. 

My brother Lothar is Lieutenant in the 
4th Dragoons. Before the war he was at 
the War Academy. He was made an officer 
at the outbreak and began the war as a 
cavalry man exactly as I did. I know noth- 
ing about his actions for he never speaks of 
himself. However, I have been told the fol- 
lowing story : 

In the winter of 1914 Lothar's regiment 
was on the Warthe. The Russians were 
on the other side of the river. Nobody 
knew whether they intended to stay 
there or to go back. The water was 
frozen partly along the shore. So it 
was difficult to ride through the river. 
There were, of course, no bridges, for the 
Russians had destroyed them. So my 
brother swam across, ascertained the posi- 
tion of the Russians and swam back again. 
He did that during a severe Russian winter 
when the thermometer was very low. After 
a few minutes his clothes were frozen solid. 
Yet he asserted that he had felt quite warm 

204 



THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 

notwithstanding. He kept on his horse all 
day long until he got to his quarters in the 
evening, yet he did not catch a chill. 

In winter, 1915, he followed my urgent 
advice and went into the flying service. He 
also became an observer and became a pilot 
only a year later. Acting as an observer is 
certainly not a bad training, particularly for 
a chasing airman. In March, 1917, he passed 
his third examination and came at once to 
my squadron. 

When he arrived he was a very young and 
innocent pilot who never thought of looping 
and such like tricks. He was quite satisfied 
if he succeeded in starting his machine and 
in landing successfully. A fortnight later I 
took him with me against the enemy for the 
first time. I asked him to fly close behind 
me in order that he might see exactly how 
the fighting was done. 

After the third flight with him I suddenly 
noticed he parted company with me. He 
rushed at an Englishman and killed him. 
My heart leapt with joy when I saw it. The 
event proved once more that there is no art 

205 



THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 



in shooting down an aeroplane. The thing 
is done by the personaUty or by the fighting 
determination of the airman.* I am not a 
Pegoud and I do not wish to be a Pegoud. 
I am only a soldier who does his duty. 

Four weeks later my brother had shot 
down a total of twenty Englishmen. His 
record as a flier is probably unique. It has 
probably not happened in any other case 
that a pilot, a fortnight after his third ex- 
amination, has shot down his first enemy and 
that he has shot down twenty during the 
first four weeks of his fighting life. 

My brother's twenty-second opponent was 
the celebrated Captain Ball. He was by far 
the best English flier. Major Hawker, who 
in his time was as renowned as Captain Ball, 
I had pressed to my bosom some months pre- 
viously. It was a particular pleasure to me 
that it fell to my brother to settle England's 
second flying champion. 

Captain Ball flew a triplane and encoun- 

*This may be the propagandist editor at work, or it may be a 
deliberate attempt to mislead, because, as a matter of fact, a man 
cannot survive long as a fighting pilot unless he is a perfect 
master of his machine. 

206 



THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 

tered my brother flying by himself at the 
Front. Each tried to catch the other. 
Neither gave his opponent a chance. Every 
encounter was a short one. They were con- 
stantly dashing at one another. Neither 
succeeded in getting behind the other. Sud- 
denly both resolved to fire a few well aimed 
shots during the few moments of the en- 
counter. Both rushed at one another, and 
fired. Both had before them their engine. 
The probability of a hit was very small for 
their speed was twice as great as normally. 
It was improbable that either should suc- 
ceed. My brother, who was a little lower, 
had pulled his machine around too hard and 
the result was that it overturned. For a mo- 
ment his aeroplane became unsteerable. But 
presently he recovered control and found out 
that his opponent had smashed both his ben- 
zine tanks. Therefore, he had to stop the 
engine and land quickly. Otherwise, his 
machine might burst into flames. 

His next idea was: What has become of 
my opponent? At the moment when his ma- 
chine turned its somersault he had seen that 

207 



THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 

the enemy's machine was rearing up in the 
air and had also turned a somersault. He 
therefore could not be very far. His whole 
thought was: Is he above me or beneath me? 
He was not above but he saw the triplane 
falling down in a series of somersaults. It 
fell, fell, fell until it came to the ground 
where it was smashed to pieces. This hap- 
pened on German territory. Both opponents 
had hit one another with their machine guns. 
My brother's machine had had both benzine 
tanks smashed and at the same moment 
Captain Ball had been shot through the head. 
He carried with him some photographs and 
cuttings from the newspapers of his town 
where he had been greatly feted. 
In Boelcke's time Captain Ball destroyed 
thirty-six German machines. He, too, had 
found his master. Was it by chance that a 
prominent man such as he also should die 
an ordinary soldier's death?* 

•There is some curious error here, for Captain Ball was not 
flying a triplane at the time of his death. It seems probable that 
someone else shot Captain Ball on the same day, and that, as the 
younger von Richthofen was disabled, and so could not go and 
identify the wreckage of Captain Ball's machine, the credit was 
given to von Richthofen in default of anyone else making a claim. 

208 



THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 

Captain Ball was certainly the commander 
of the Anti-Richthofen Squadron. I believe 
that the Englishmen will now give up their 
attempt to catch me. I should regret it, for 
in that case, I should miss many opportun- 
ities to make myself beloved by them. 

Had my brother not been wounded on the 
fifth of May he would probably on my re- 
turn from furlough, also have been given a 
leave of absence with fifty-two hostile ma- 
chines to his credit. 

My father discriminates between a sports- 
man and a butcher. The latter shoots for 
fun. When I have shot down an English- 
man my hunting passion is satisfied for a 
quarter of an hour. Therefore I do not 
succeed in shooting two Englishmen in suc- 
cession. If one of them comes down I have 
the feeling of complete satisfaction. Only 
much, much later I have overcome my in- 
stinct and have become a butcher. 

My brother is differently constituted. I 
had an opportunity of observing him when 
he was shooting down his fourth and fifth 
opponents. We were attacking in a squad- 

209 



THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 

ron. I started the dance. I had settled my 
opponent very quickly. When I looked 
around I noticed my brother rushing after 
an English machine which was bursting into 
flames, and exploded. Next to it was an- 
other Englishman. My brother, though fol- 
lowing number one, immediately directed 
his machine gun against number two, al- 
though his first opponent was still in the 
air and had not yet fallen. His second vic- 
tim also fell after a short struggle. 

When we met at home he asked me 
proudly, "How many have you shot down?" 
I said quite modestly, "One." He turned his 
back upon me and said, "I did two." There- 
upon I sent him forward to make inquiries. 
He was to find out the names of his victims, 
etc. He returned late in the afternoon 
having been able to find only a single Eng- 
lishman. 

He had looked carelessly, as is usual 
amongst such butchers. Only on the follow- 
ing day I received a report as to the place 
where the second had come down. 

We all had seen his fall. 

210 



THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 



I Shoot a Bison 

\17 HEN visiting Headquarters I met the 
' * Prince von Pless. He permitted me to 
shoot a bison on his estate. The bison has 
died out. On the whole earth there are only- 
two spots where bisons may be found. These 
are the Pless Estate and in the Bialowicz 
estate of the ex-Czar. The Bialowicz forest 
has, of course, suffered terribly through the 
war. Many a magnificent bison which ought 
to have been shot either by the Czar or by 
some other monarch has been eaten by Ger- 
man musketeers. 

Through the kindness of the Prince I was 
permitted to shoot so rare an animal. In a 
few decades none will be left. 

I arrived at Pless on the afternoon of the 
twenty-sixth of May and had to start imme- 
diately from the station if I wished to kill 
a bull the same evening. We drove along 
the celebrated road, through the giant pre- 
serves of the Prince, which has been fre- 
quented by many crowned heads. After 
about an hour, we got out and had to walk 

211 



THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 

half an hour to come to the shooting place. 
The drivers had already been placed in posi- 
tion. The signal was given to them and they 
began the drive. 

I stood at an elevated spot which had been 
occupied, according to the head forester, by 
His Majesty, who from thence had shot 
many a bison. We waited some considerable 
time. Suddenly I saw among the timber a 
gigantic black monster, rolling along. It 
came straight in my direction. I noticed it 
before the head forester had. I got ready 
for firing and must say that I felt somewhat 
feverish. 

It was a mighty bull. When he was at a 
distance of two hundred yards there was 
still some hope for him. I thought it was 
too far for a shot. Of course I could have 
hit the monster because it was impossible 
to miss such a huge beast. However, it 
would have been unpleasant to search for 
him. Besides it would have been ridiculous 
had I missed him, so I thought I would wait 
until he came nearer. 

Probably he noticed the drivers for he 

212 



THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 

suddenly turned and came rushing towards 
me at a sharp angle and at a speed which 
seemed to me incredible. It was a bad po- 
sition for a shot, and in a moment he disap- 
peared behind a group of stout trees. 

I heard him snorting and stamping. I lost 
sight of him. I have no idea whether he 
smelt me or not. At any rate, he had disap- 
peared. I caught another glimpse of him 
at a long distance and he was gone. 

I do not know whether it was the unac- 
customed aspect of the animal or whether 
something else affected me. At any rate, at 
the moment when the bull came near I had 
the same feeling, the same feverishness 
which seizes me when I am sitting in my 
aeroplane and notice an Englihman at so 
great a distance that I have to fly perhaps 
five minutes in order to get near him. The 
only difference is that the Englishman de- 
fends himself. Possibly, different feelings 
would have moved me had I been standing 
on level ground and not on an elevated 
position. 

Before long, a second bison came near. 

213 



THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 

He was also a huge fellow. He made it 
easier for me to fire my shot. At a distance 
of eighty yards I fired at him but I had 
missed my opportunity to shoot him in the 
shoulder. A month before, Hindenburg had 
told me when talking of bison: "You must 
take a lot of cartridges with you. I have 
spent on such a fellow half a dozen for he 
does not die easily. His heart lies so deep 
that one misses it as a rule." That was 
really so. Although I knew exactly where 
the bison's heart was I had missed it. I fired 
a second shot and a third. Hit for the third 
time the bull stopped perhaps fifty yards 
from me. 

Five minutes later the beast was dead. 
The shooting was finished. All three bul- 
lets had hit him close above the heart. 

We drove now, past the beautiful hunting 
box of the Prince through the forest, in 
which the guests of Prince Pless shoot 
every year, deer, and other animals. Then 
we looked at the interior of the house in 
Promnitz. It is situated on a peninsula. It 
commands beautiful views and for three 

214 



THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 

miles around there is no human being. One 
has no longer the feeling that one is in a 
preserve of the ordinary kind when one visits 
the estate of Prince Pless, for the preserve 
extends to a million acres. It contains glori- 
ous stags which have never been seen by 
man. No forester knows them. Occasion- 
ally they are shot. One can tramp about for 
weeks without seeing a bison. During cer- 
tain times of the year it is impossible to find 
one. They like quietude and they can hide 
themselves in the gigantic forests and 
tangled woods. We saw many beautiful 
deer. 

After about two hours we arrived at Pless, 
just before it became dark. 

Infantry Fliers, Artillery Fliers 
and Reconnoitring Machines 

LJAD I not become a professional chaser 
* -*- I should have turned an infantry flier. 
After all, it must be a very satisfactory feel- 
ing to be able to aid those troops whose 
work is hardest. The infantry flier can do 
a great deal to assist the man on foot. 

215 



THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 

For that reason his is a very grateful task.* 
In the course of the Battle of Arras I ob- 
served many of these splendid fellows. They 
flew in any weather and at any time at a 
low altitude over the enemy and tried to 
act as connecting links with our hard- 
pressed troops. I can understand that one 
can fight with enthusiasm when one is given 
such a task. I dare say many an airman has 
shouted Hurrah! when, after an assault he 
saw the hostile masses stream back or when 
our smart infantry leaped from the trenches 
and fought the aggressors eye to eye. Many 
a time, after a chasing expedition, I have 
fired my remaining cartridges into the 
enemy trenches. Although I may have done 
little practical good, such firing affects the 
enemy's morale. 

I have also been an artillery flier. In my 
time it was a novelty to regulate the firing 
of one's own artillery by wireless telegraphy. 
To do this well an airman requires special 
talent. I could not do the work for long. 

"This was evidently written some time after von Richthofen's 
previous disparaging note on Infantry Contact fliers. 

2l6 



THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 

I prefer fighting. Very likely, artillery 
officers make the best artillery fliers. At 
least, they have the necessary knowledge of 
the arm which they serve. 

I have done a lot of reconnoitering by 
aeroplane, particularly in Russia during the 
war of movement. Then I acted once more 
as a cavalryman. The only difference was 
that I rode a Pegasus made of steel. My 
days spent with friend Hoick among the 
Russians were among the finest in my life. 

In the Western theater the eye of the 
reconnaissance flier sees things which are 
very different from those to which the cav- 
alrymen get accustomed. Villages and 
towns, railways and roads seem lifeless and 
dead. Yet there is a colossal traffic going on 
all the time, but it is hidden from the flying 
men with great skill. Only a wonderfully 
trained practised and observant eye can 
see anything definite when one is traveling 
at a great height and at a terrific speed. I 
have excellent eyes but it seems doubtful to 
me whether there is anyone who can see 
anything definite when he looks down upon a 

217 



THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 

road from an altitude of fifteen thousand 
feet. As the eye is an imperfect object for 
observation one replaces it by the photo- 
graphic apparatus. Everything that seems 
important to one must be photographed. 
Besides, one must photograph those things 
virhich one is told to photograph. If one 
comes home and if the plates have gone 
wrong, the whole flight has been for nothing. 

It often happens to flying men who do 
reconnoitering that they get involved in a 
fight. However, their task is more impor- 
tant than fighting. Frequently a photo- 
graphic plate is more valuable than the 
shooting down of a squadron. Hence the 
flying photographer should, as a rule, not 
take a hand in fighting. 

Nowadays it is a difficult task to recon- 
noiter efficiently in the West.* 

The German Flying Machines 

T N the course of the War the German fly- 

ing machines have experienced great 

changes. That is probably generally known. 

*This is really a high testimony to the effective work of the 
R. F. C. 

2l8 



THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 

There is a colossal difference between' a 
giant plane and a chaser plane. 

The chaser plane is small, fast, quick at 
turning. It carries nothing apart from the 
pilot except machine guns and cartridges. 

The giant plane is a colossus. Its only 
duty is to carry as much weight as possible 
and it is able to do this owing to the huge 
surface of its planes. It is worth while to 
look at the gigantic English plane which 
landed smoothly on the German side of the 
front.** The giant plane can carry an un- 
believable weight. It will easily fly away 
dragging from three to five tons. Its ben- 
zine tanks look as large as railroad cars. In 
going about in such a colossus one has no 
longer the sensation that one is flying. One 
is driving. In going about in a giant plane 
the direction depends no longer on one's in- 
stinct but on the technical instruments which 
one carries. 

A giant plane has a huge number of horse 
powers. I do not know exactly how many, 
but they are many thousand. The greater 

**A Handley Page which landed near Laon early in 1917. 
219 



THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 

the horse power is, the better. It seems not 
impossible that the day may come when a 
whole division will be transported in such 
a thing. In its body one can go for a walk. 
In one of its corners there is an indescribable 
something. It contains an apparatus for 
wireless telephony by means of which one 
can converse with the people down below. 
In another corner are hanging the most 
attractive liver sausages which one can im- 
agine. They are the famous bombs which 
cause such a fright to the good people down 
below. At every corner is a gun. The whole 
thing is a flying fortress, and the planes 
with their stays and supports look like 
arcades. I have never been able to feel en- 
thusiasm for these giant barges. I find them 
horrible, unsportsmanlike, boring and clum- 
sy. I rather like a machine of the type of 
"le petit rouge." 

11 one is in a small chaser-plane it is quite 
immaterial whether one flies on one's back, 
whether one flies up or down, stands on 
one's head, etc. One can play any tricks one 
likes, for in such a machine one can fly like 

220 



THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 

a bird. The only difference is that one does 
not fly with wings, as does the bird alba- 
tros. The thing is, after all, merely a flying 
engine. I think things will come to this, 
that we shall be able to buy a flying suit for 
half-a-crown. One gets into it. On the one 
end there is a little engine, and a little pro- 
peller. You stick your arms into planes and 
your legs into the tail. Then you will do 
a few leaps in order to start and away you 
will go up into the air like a bird. 

My dear reader, I hear you laughing at 
my story. But we do not know yet whether 
our children will laugh at it. Everyone 
would have laughed fifty years ago if some- 
body had spoken about flying above Berlin. 
I remember the sensation which was caused, 
when, in 1910, Zeppelin came for the first 
time to Berlin. Now no Berlin street man 
looks up into the air when an airship is 
coming along. 

Besides giant planes and little chaser- 
planes, there are innumerable other types of 
flying machines and they are of all sizes. 
Inventiveness has not yet come to an end. 

221 



THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 

Who can tell what machine we shall employ 
a year hence in order to perforate the atmos- 
phere? 



THE END 



222 



1 M V 6 



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